


Overmorrow

by Sam_Kabaam



Category: The 100
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Betrayal, Blizzards, Blood, Character Death (not major), Cold, Death, F/M, Graphic, I lied, Kabby af, Killing, Murder, Nightmares, Poison, Polis, Snow, Some happiness, Stitches, Suicide, Surgery, Violence, War, bite wounds, bullet wounds, depression (you'll know why), failed pregnancy, kabby kisses, kabby showering (not smutty cause I can't write smut), lots of tags cause lots of stuff, major angst, ok that's all..., that's all the tags for now... I think...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Kabaam/pseuds/Sam_Kabaam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus and Abby are left wounded and stranded in the woods after AI Mutants attack on their way to Polis. When one fights for revenge, the other fights for peace as they both try to cope with their loses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tiph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiph/gifts).



> This first chapter is bloody and graphic (at least to some people) so there's a little warning! This is also a very angsty fic, and a very kabby fic, so be warned! Enjoy!

Overmorrow Chapter 1

Marcus ducked just as an arrow came rushing towards him, his head as the target. 

"Fall back," he screamed, the deep snow engulfing his body in a frigid blanket. 

He was relieved to see Bellamy pulling Abby in front of him, pushing her away from the attack. The rest of his men were obeying orders as well, running to safety, turning back every so often to fire their guns to the enemy. 

They were unlike anything he'd ever seen. Dark eyes and rolled faces, their teeth sharp and jagged. Yet, they were human, or at least had a human hint to their grotesque image.  
They were the reason the snow was painted red. The reason soldiers screamed as the darkness surrounded them. The reason that maybe their convoy wouldn't be reaching Polis, or even home. 

Marcus felt his stomach drop as he caught glimpse of a mutant jumping for his throat, its teeth bared. He rolled from his hole in the snow just in time for the beast to thrash into the winters frozen snowdrifts, kicking up the white powder as it exploded frantically, searching for its prey. Marcus reached for the machete at his belt, which served him better as a sword. Raising it above his head with one hand, the other gripped the single braid that decorated the creatures scalp. He could feel it's skull cracking under his hand, the thick, dark red liquid slowly oozing from its brain, coloring the snow with crimson streaks. He jumped back as it surged across his face, the scarlet liquid blinding his eyes. He tried to wipe it away with his hands, but found himself unable to move them. Blinking a few times, he was able to clear his vision, the limp and bloodied body of his enemy laying in front of him. His eyes were glued to the hole in its head, his knife still stuck in place. Marcus was so struck at his actions, he failed to hear his name being howled from behind. 

"Get up, God damn it, get up," a voice screamed, reaching across his chest and pulling him from the ground. Marcus jumped from his state of shock, and bent down quickly, pulling the machete from the corpse that slowly became buried in the snow. He turned to face the soldier who helped him stand, but was greeted with nothing but a snowfield. With his savior gone, an unknown ghost of the past, he shrugged to himself, and began running along side his people. 

He had trained himself to let his mind run blank when danger was upon him. It was the one thing that helped him focus, and make the best decisions. That was until Abby seeped into his mind. Last he saw her she was with Bellamy. Was she ok? Did they run into trouble? Where were they? He searched his surroundings frantically, starring at the fearful faces of his soldiers as he trudged quickly past them, drops of blood falling from the sword in his hand. 

The snow finally began to thin out as he made it into the tree line, frozen icicles hanging from the barren branches.  
"Abby," he cried, his voice full of fear and distress, "Abby, Bellamy," he repeated, his sprint slowing down to a quick jog. Although there was only an inch of snow beneath his feet, he was quickly loosing stamina, and as he kept moving forward, he realized he didn't know where he was running to. 

He always had a plan, always knew where he was going if the mission went south. But, not this time. This time he was In a panic. He was only ever in charge of making sure him and his men were safe, not the love of his life, and chancellor of the ark. 

He was about to come to a halt when a familiar voice called to him.  
"Kane," said Bellamy, tackling him to the ground. They both fell to the cold forest floor just in time for a bomb detonated behind them. It was unlike anything they'd ever heard. Piercing their ears with a bloody screech. 

"Stun grenades," screamed Marcus, grabbing Bellamy's shoulder, pulling him to his feet, "don't fire your weapons. Keep your eyes open."

Bellamy hung onto Marcus's shoulder, his nails digging into his skin, he couldn't help but lay all his weight on him. 

"Bellamy," Marcus yelled, wrapping his left arm around his ribcage, trying to help him stand, "Bellamy you gotta snap out of it." 

His vision was blurry, and his ears could barely make out the words of his friend. He was confused when his feet suddenly began to move across the ground, his senses returning to him. 

"K-Kane," he stumbled as he tried his best to run the speed of his fellow councilman, "Abby is sa- safe. Her and m-most of the men are held up in a grotto, not far from here. They have good vantage points."

"Thank god," he said, a wave of relief flooding through him. She was safe, and that was all that mattered.  
"Now we just need to get you there," he groaned, trying his best to hold Bellamy's weight. He noticed a few other guards, running besides them as well, "follow us," he said to them, trying his best to get as many people to safety as he could. 

After a few more steps, Bellamy finally managed to get his senses together, and let go of Marcus, running besides him. "The grotto isn't much farther," he said, trying his best not to trip over the still corpses that littered the freshly bloodied snow. 

Marcus couldn't help but count how many of them were one of his people. One, two, six, the count just kept rising. He prayed Bellamy was right. He prayed everything would be ok. He didn't know for sure who sent this attack, but he had a pretty good idea.  
The whole reason they were trudging their way through the cold and harsh winter was because of ALIEs bombs she sent towards Polis. The death count and why she attacked was unknown, but when the Skaikru is summoned by the grounder chief to Polis, you can't necessarily refuse. Marcus voted to not leave for Polis. The winter was to harsh, and being caught in a war that they had no place in, or even started, didn't sound like a great idea to him. He knew it could help form an alliance again with the grounders. But this? There was to much blood, to much death for peace to rise. 

Marcus peered behind him, nothing. There was no sound besides his and Bellamy's heavy breathing, their feet crunching in the snow.  
"Bellamy," Marcus said grabbing his shoulder, both of them stopping in their tracks.  
He turned around and motioned with his head the lack of danger.

"Nothing," Bellamy breathed out of breath, his voice trailing away in the quiet winter wind. 

"No... they're still here," Marcus whispered, grabbing the handle of his machete, preparing for the worst. Bellamy took note of his caution, piecing it together with his words. He slowly drew his gun from its holster, steadily cocking it. 

"In the trees?" Bellamy asked, taking a few steps back. 

Marcus thought for a moment. He didn't know where they were, but they were there, and they were hunting.  
"I don't know, most likely. Keep your eyes open."

"Yea," Bellamy noted sarcastically, "if they don't chew them out first"

His comment only made Marcus more on edge. He was about to turn around when a slight flicker in the trees caught his eye. By the time he realized their plan it was to late. Bellamy stepped back, tripping on a fallen log as he landed on his back. Marcus tried to step to the side from the incoming attack, but was to late. His legs buckled under him as a creature bit at his leg, sinking its teeth into his bone, blood spraying onto their skin and the ground.  
Marcus screamed, drawing his 'sword' he slashed the beast in the crook of its neck. He could feel it's teeth loosen around his leg as blood sprayed from its neck. His stomach dropped, for he could see three more coming through the timbers, their armor similar to that of the reapers. 

Bellamy jumped from the ground, his attention immediately turned to the gash in Marcus's leg, and the dead mutant at his side. 

"Bellamy, run," Marcus gasped, trying his best to stand, collapsing every time weight was set on his bare bone. 

Bellamy looked up, fear striking his gut at the sight of more enemies. He searched for his gun, spinning around in the dirt for his weapon. Nothing. 

Marcus collapsed on the ground for one final time, his ankle to weak to function.  
"Bellamy," he said, a little louder than the first time, "get out of here, that's an order."

Bellamy wanted to scream at him, ask him what the hell he was thinking, but now wasn't the time. He tried bending down to help him up, but was pushed violently back. 

"Get out of here," Marcus screamed, his temper rising. 

Bellamy stumbled back over the log, his feet shifting violently as he worked to catch himself. Once he was steady, he tried to jump back to his wounded chancellor, but a hand around his stomach stopped him from that. 

"We need to get out of here, leave him," said Lincoln, pulling Bellamy around. 

"No," he screamed, trying his hardest to kick away from him. But, it was no use, Lincoln had a good grip on him, and he wasn't going anywhere. 

Bellamy didn't know what was happening until he saw the grotto ahead, the realization of his actions dawning on him. He was running. Leaving behind his chancellor, fellow councilman, and friend. What would he tell Abby? That he left him to save himself? That he wasn't good enough to be saved? He didn't know, and he began to think there was no reason he left him, other than the fact that deep down, he knew he would rather save his own hide. 

 

 

Marcus gripped his weapon, fresh blood falling from the blade. He positioned himself so that his back was against the rotted log, preparing for the attack. He knew it could very well be the end, but he wasn't going down without a fight. As the creatures moved closer, their feet pounding against the ground in a sprint, Marcus swung his sword, cutting one across the stomach. It fell on its chest against the fallen tree, growling a gurgled anger towards its enemy. The two left came to quickly, and Marcus couldn't prepare himself in time for them to sink their teeth into his flesh. One went for his already wounded leg, biting away at his ankle as the other tried to chew its way into Marcus's shoulder. 

He screamed in pain, blood dripping down his torn winter coat, and splashing onto his dirt and swear covered face. He brought his machete between the monster at his shoulder and himself, pushing up violently as he embedded the sharp metal between the mutants rib cage. It screeched as it fell to its side, thrashing a few times before going limp. Marcus immediately went for the one at his leg, striking the top of its skull as it tore its way through his leg. He had no time to react before the beast he had slashed earlier jumped from the log, sinking it's teeth into the side of his neck. Again, a blood curdling scream arose from his throat, blood dripping from his mouth. He coughed, the thick liquid spraying onto his clothes. 

Marcus moved his machete to the opposite hand. He couldn't help but quietly cry out as he felt teeth seep deeper and deeper into his flesh. He tried pushing the beast off with his free hand, striking with fatal blows to its head, but it was of no use. With each push it's teeth ripped at his skin, causing more damage. The pain was to great. He tried to scream, but nothing came out except blood. It began trailing down his chin, dripping down onto the soft cloth of his shirt.  
Marcus wanted to give up. To seep into darkness and let it all end, but he wasn't. He couldn't. Abby was still out there, still alive, and that thought was what made his mind explode. All his thoughts of pain were gone, and were replaced by that one peaceful night. Where Abby was safe and warm. Snuggled in a blanket, gripping his hand. Her soft hair falling gently off the side of her pillow. 

Anger arose in his cheeks. A fire he had only felt a few times in his life came surging through his body and right to the hand that gripped his weapon. He screamed, and in one quick motion of his arm, cut his enemies head clean off. The creatures body moved to the ground, it's teeth ripped from Marcus's skin as its head rolled across the wintery floor.  
He leaned his head back against the log and closed his eyes, breathing heavily as blood dropped from his mouth, small moans escaping his lips. A sharp pain in his leg caught his attention, and he lifted his head to see the damage, his eyes only half open.  
The flesh on his ankle was torn off, his bone open to the world. Deep scratches trailed up and down his leg, crimson streaks of blood rolling down onto the ground. He noticed then how he sat in a pool of it, unsure wether it was all his or not.  
The sight made him sick. He didn't mind blood, never had. But there was just so much. He was coated in it. On his face and leg. A few drops sprayed across his stomach. What he feared most, was how much of it was his. 

 

Red. Red snow. Red hands. Red clothes. Everything was red. How he got there was beyond his knowledge. One minute he was holding her hand as they strolled through a peaceful winter wonderland. And the next, he was bleeding out, unsure if Abby was still alive. The pain in his leg felt almost numbing, easily ignored at the moment. But the pain in his heart and mind, was unbearable.  
'It's my fault,' he thought, his mind racing in circles,'I led them here. I led her here.'

He leaned his head back against the log again, his eyes beginning to droop closed. The pain in his leg continued to grow stronger and stronger as his mind grew weaker. Marcus dug his fingers into the dirt, squeezing so hard his arms shook and hardened. He knew it would be slow. He knew it would be painful. He knew you must sacrifice the few to save the many, and it was his turn to be the offering. 

He could feel something in the back of his throat. A hard humming that tore at his cords. The taste of blood seeping into every one of his tastebuds. His chest tight and sore. It wasn't until he really focused on the earth around him did he realize he was screaming. His deep voice echoing through the trees, disturbing the peace. He tried to stop, to calm down and catch his breath, but it felt almost impossible. He took a few deep breaths, the frosty air filling his lungs, but it only made him choke on his own blood. He turned his head to the right, coughing as crimson splattered across the snow. He let the side of his head rest against the log, no longer screaming, but breathing hard and heavy, wincing at each shocking wave as it travelled up his leg, starting at the ankle. 

His eyes opened slowly, the world blurry and rough. He felt his eyes transfixed on a black, blurred object laying in the snow, a foot from where he lay. He reached out his hand, running his fingers over the cold, rough metal, the trigger screaming his name. He knew where Bellamy's gun dropped, but kept quiet. It was selfish of him he knew, but he also didn't care. In his mind Abby was dead, and so was Bellamy. It didn't matter if he had his gun or not. He just wanted to end it, and quick. 

He gripped the handle of the gun, bringing it up so that it rested in his lap, his weak arm falling back to the forest floor. He stared at it for what felt like an eternity. All the details he'd never noticed before on a pistol. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about pulling the trigger on himself. On the Ark especially. The day he found out he culled 300 innocent people for no reason. It wasn't just the alcohol that pushed his mind towards the end, but the thought of himself, a monster, being able to live, whilst the innocent died. 

It wasn't a hard decision for him, all he had to do was build up the physical strength to bring the barrel to his head and pull the trigger. The pain in his neck would disappear. The pain in his leg would be nonexistent. His mind would clear of all thought as he drifted off into the unknown. A small tug on the edges of his lips formed when he thought of finally resting. No more death, no more pain, no more anger. Just peace. And maybe, just maybe, the chance to be with Abby.

Marcus brought his arm up to his lap, grabbing the gun and setting it to his temple. The cold barrel chilling against his warm skin. Bellamy had already done the honors of cocking the handle. All he had to do was pull the trigger. A simple squeeze of his finger, and his story would finally come to its end. His ears rang as they listened to the faint beating of his heart. His arm shook as the weight of the pistol weakened his muscles even more, his bloody fingers loosing their grip. Normally, Marcus thought of weakness when it came to suicide. He was never surprised when a suicide report was set in his hands on the ark. But as he sat alone, his whole life washed away, it didn't seem as vile as he once thought. 

He was so close to pulling the trigger. Letting the bullet finish what little was left of him, but he stopped. A deathly scream haunted the woods, a shiver traveling up his spine. He knew that voice, knew the scream. He heard it every night as he tried to sleep. Her voice haunting his every thought. It was Abby. She was alive? How? Millions of questions seeped into his mind. Why is she screaming? Where is she? Who's hurting her? Is Abby going to be ok? It was a moment unlike any other. His chest became lighter, his muscles stronger. Her screams angered him more than anything. He didn't care about his pain, or the dead beings that lay around him. Because in that moment, the world seemed to slow, and all that mattered to him was that Abby was alive, and she needed his help. 

Marcus shoved the gun in his belt as fast as he could, grabbing the machete that lay to his left. With all the strength he could muster he used the fallen tree to help him stand, his arms shaking as they held all of his weight. His wincing of pain mixed with those of Abby screams, and it only fueled him further. As he stood up, he felt his legs wobble. He was able to stick his arms out as he caught himself on tree next to him. He tried to walk, putting all his weight on his shredded leg before gasping in pain, and falling to his knees. 

Fury rose within him, an anger that burst through his mind like a hurricane. He turned so his back was against the tree as he took the machete from his belt. Tears blurred his vision as he used the tree that supported his back to stand, all his weight resting on his left leg. All the trees were fairly close together, and it didn't take much to hope over to each one, their trunks supporting him as he leapt through the barren timbers, growing closer and closer to Abby's cry for help, until it stopped.  
For a moment, he thought he'd lost her. That was until he laid his eyes upon a gruesome scene that made his stomach twist with anger and disgust. Two of his men dead on the forest floor, their guts disgorged from their stomachs. Abby lay between them, her breath heavy and fast. Blood stained all along her stomach and breasts, a masked beast standing before her. She thought it was the end, that Marcus would find her, dead in the forest. He'd have to bury her, have to say goodbye. She wished she could do something, anything to prevent him from going through such pain, but she couldn't. The pain in her core sent shocks up and down her body. Her enemy raised his sword into the air, preparing to strike her to her doom, and Abby prepared herself for the worst. Her mind racing with a million thoughts and questions. She was prepared to give up, when a deafening fire pierced her ears, making her body jump with surprise. Before she knew what it was, blood sprayed across her body, it's source the mutants chest. She watched as it fell to its side, landing on the hard ground with a thud. Her eyes flashed to Marcus, watching in shock as he dropped the gun to the ground and hobbled to her side, his knees falling into the dirt as he helped lift her back upwards, helping her breath as blood crept up her throat and out her mouth. She was in shock, didn't know what to say. But, in all honesty, she couldn't say anything. 

Everything happened so fast. Running and screaming, a bullet to her stomach as she toppled to the ground. Crying and swinging as she tried so desperately to hang onto her life that hung by a thread. Coughing and chocking as she watched her life flash before her eyes. And now, breathing and crying as she raised her hands to run her fingers through his bloody yet soft hair. To feel his cheek as his beard scraped against her palm like feathers. To touch his skin as the blood smeared across his face and look into his dark and desperate eyes, just to know he was real. To know that he was there with her, as they both sat cold and dying, broken beyond repair. 

"It- it's going to be ok, Abby," Marcus spoke quietly, his voice desperate and saddened, "I promise you, everything will be ok. Please-please just hold on," his shoulders moved as tears began to fill his eyes, falling slowly down his face. 

"M-Marcus," Abby gasped, her voice barely audible in the cold winter dusk, "I-I'm ok, y-you're ok. We're going t-to be fine... I n-need you to get a  
t-tourniquet around your leg, you're bleeding out."

"No, Abby. Look at you, you need more help. H-how do I stop your blood flow?"

"Bandages, lots and lots of bandages. But, Marcus, y-you can't help me unless..." she stopped having to catch her breath as a shape pain rose through her body, she moaned as it swept through her nerves, plaguing her mind. Marcus held her tighter, resting her against his thigh. He listened as she began again, the pain passing, "you can't help me, unless you get a tourniquet around your leg." Her expression was a mix of fear, desperation, and anger. Marcus knew she was right, and damn her for being so, but he did as he was told. 

He carefully looted the body of a dead guard who sat dead, directly to their left, taking her belt from her waist. As carefully and softly as he could, Marcus let the back of Abby's head rest in his hand as he gently lowered it to the ground, and positioned himself so he sat with his leg out in front of him. He couldn't see the full damage, his pant leg sticking to his skin, his blood acting as glue. A few inches above the wound he twisted the belt as tight as he could. It squeezed his sore and bruised leg, a mild pain. He finished as quick as he could, and immediately positioned himself on his knees again, slipping his hand in the crook of Abby's neck. She grabbed his free hand and held it tightly, using it as a tool to help relieve the pain. 

"It's your turn," he said. 

"In my bag, there's bandages, they should help stop my bleeding."  
Marcus immediately went to the satchel at her side, digging around to find the much needed medical supplies. Taking the bandages he carefully lifted her shirt, blood and chunks of flesh lining her smooth stomach. He felt his stomach drop at the sight, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. He quickly worked at layering the bandages around her wound, gently yet firmly pressing down as to stop the blood from flowing. 

"That should be good," Abby said, her eyes closed,"we'll need some for you and me later."  
She opened her eyes questioningly at the lack of his response. His look was sad, his brow furrowed in confusion at her words.  
"There will be a later, Marcus," she assured him with a strong yet soft voice, "this isn't how our story ends."

He smiled weakly, moving his body so that her head again rested on his leg.  
"I know," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead, their fingers entwined as their wet and bloody hands rested against Abby's chest. They both sat quietly, staring into each other's eyes as the dusk turned to night, the cold winter frost numbing their pain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus removes the bullet from Abby's stomach, as she try's to fix his leg (that's a terrible explanation, sorry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! It's quiet graphic so be warned, enjoy

Overmorrow Chapter 2

Frozen winter, barren land, bloody hands. A few of the many thoughts that travelled through Marcus Kane's mind as he lay still, the winter snow covering his body in a freezing blanket. Abby was his only warmth, and even she was loosing energy to produce any heat.  
The sun finally had managed to climb its way into the sky, being blocked out by the grey clouds, it's ability to provide warmth failing.  
After a few moments of lying there, staring into the vast blue void as he clung desperately to Abby's hand, his other holding tightly to her shoulder, he gave into the pain that plagued his body, and tried his best to sit up. 

The snow across his chest and stomach slid off onto the ground, blending in with the red that surrounded him. He tried to pry his hand from Abby's, but she held on tight, and the frosty chill in the air only made it worse. He gave up when she heard her whine and wince, her free hand coming up to lay pressure on her stomach.  
Marcus immediately sat up, ignoring the sting on his neck, the pain in his leg completely numb. 

"Hey, Abby," he said softly and calmly, brushing the snow from her neck and face as he used his hand as her pillow against the forest floor, "Abby, it's ok, wake up. You have to wake up, Abby"

He was relieved to see her eyes finally flutter open only a little, foggy, much like his own. Her breathing was jagged and a cold sweat coated her skin, mixing with the dried blood that stuck to her stomach. She tried to say something to let him know she was ok, but nothing escaped her lips except a small cough as she tried to choke back the vomit and blood that she could feel in her stomach and throat. 

"It's ok," he breathed, lifting her so that he supported her as she sat up, "you're ok... W-we need to get out of t-this cold," he said, his teeth chattering in the wind, body trembling as the chill pierced his hide like needles.  
All Abby could do was nod, glancing into his eyes as a sign of assurance. 

"Where's-s the grotto from here?" He stumbled, trying his best to get a good grip around her waist as to help hoist her to stand. 

"A-ahead," was the only word her little strength could muster, but it was enough for him to understand. 

Marcus tried to hardest to slide onto his knees and stand, it was then that he finally got a good look at his right leg. The only thing keeping it intact was his bone, which was left the wound open and unprotected to the outside world. He shuddered at the sight. All of his feelings in his foot and ankle were gone, he wasn't even able to move his toes. 

With all his weight on his opposite leg, he grabbed Abby tightly around her waist and hoisted her up to stand, her left arm around his neck. 

"We c-can do it, Abby, one step at a t-time"

She felt strength in his words. If a man like Marcus Kane was holding so dearly to hope, then so should she. They allowed one another to lean against them as they walked, Marcus hopping on his one good leg as Abby limped beside him through the barren trees. It was a short walk, and a trail of blood left the way easy to find. 

It wasn't much of a grotto, but a large hole carved into the side of a limestone wall. There were a few dead guards and beasts that lay inside, but Marcus saw no evidence of Bellamy or Lincoln. Abby didn't have to ask to know that he was worried, and there wasn't much she could do to help him.  
"I'm sure they're ok," she mumbled as he helped her sit down, her back against the caves back wall.  
It felt warmer on their skin already now that they were out of the wind, however the cold was still seeping its way into their coats. 

"We n-need to build a fire," Abby gasped, holding tightly onto her stomach.

"Not before we get you fixed up," he argued, kneeing down beside her. 

"Marcus, you can help me by warming me up, please," she fought, her tone harsh and addressing.  
He understood her. She was in pain, and his refusal to follow her orders most likely didn't help. So, he did what he was told, and searched the cave for any dry sticks and wood.  
He was lucky to find some tucked in the back corner, most likely left as remnants from the past occupants of the burrow.  
Marcus made sure to make the foundation of their fire inside the center, where it would have a chance to fill the whole place with heat.  
Lincoln had taught him well, and it wasn't hard to catch a spark with his flint, and bring the sticks and grass to a flame, warmth immediately filling the cave. Marcus almost gasped at the feeling, he didn't think he'd ever feel so snug again. 

He didn't linger long, and immediately hobbled over to Abby, who had begun gathering her senses back, peeling back the bandages across her wound to inspect the damage. 

"Damn it," she gasped, her eyes closed tightly. The dried blood stuck to the bandage, tugging on the wound and creating more pain to seep across her body. A bullet pierced the side of her flesh along her stomach, the tip still inside her skin. 

"I need to remove the bullet,"she said, looking up and into the eyes of the man who stood before her. 

"what do I need to do?"

"I need more bandages, but not all of them, and I need you to perform a little surgery on me"

He was busy digging through her satchel when he stopped. Surgery? On her? Marcus didn't even have an idea of what to do during a surgery, let alone on someone he cared about, how much pressure would be laid upon him. But what could he do? Abby needed him, and he had to be strong, for her. 

"Abby, I know I'm the only one here besides you right now, but I was trained to kill people, not save them"

"Please, Marcus, I need your help and I know you can do this"

He wasn't going to argue, he knew what needed to be done. But, if he failed, he knew he would never forgive himself. A small nod in agreement was all Abby needed to see to know he gave his consent. 

"Good," she said, "it's not very deep, If I pull open the wound I can see it. I'll just need you to pull it out, but we don't have any equipment"

Great. Perfect. Just what he wanted to hear. His heart felt heavy in his chest and the thought of loosing Abby seeped into his mind again. It'd be all his fault. She was loosing a lot of blood as it was, and one wrong twist of his finger could push her to bleed out right in front of him. They were just so close, had made it so far by only holding onto a string of thread. He wasn't about to screw that up. Not for himself and most definitely not for Abby. 

"We need to get going," she said, inspecting the sore even closer. 

Marcus jumped to her side, kneeling next to her, prepared to do what it took to help her. As she pulled her skin apart, he found he could easily see the bullet lodged in her flesh, like a splinter. 

"I'm sorry, Abby," he whispered, before his fingers became coaxed with her blood. Her screams echoed through the cave and into the forest. Marcus shuttered at the sound. It was him, he was doing this to her. This is what he dreamed about, not the mountain men, but himself, sticking the drill into her skin as he sucked the life from her core. And now, it was all true. More blood ejected from her wound, splattering across the walls and his arm as he tried desperately to pull the bullet from her wound. Her screams became louder as he finally took a hold of it, trying as hard as he could to remove it without further pain, but it was of no use. It wasn't until he pulled as hard as he could did it exit her body. 

Her mouth was open as if she were to scream, but not a sound was heard. She tried to catch her breath but she couldn't. She could feel the blood run down her stomach and puddle onto the rocky floor. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, her teeth clenched. When she finally caught her breath all she could do was cough up the blood that was trapped in her throat. 

Marcus threw the bullet to the ground, his face a mixture of sadness and horror. Her screams of pain still ringing back and fourth inside his ears. He offered his hand which she took with pleasure, squeezing tightly again, easing her pain. 

"It's my fault, Abby. I'm so sorry, it's going to be ok, your ok," he whispered, his free hand gathering the bandages that lay on the floor and pushing them softly into her wound, stopping the blood flow. 

"Y-you did it," she breathed, a weak smile on the edge of her lips. Droplets of blood dried upon her face, and sweat trickling down her neck. It was as if they were brought back in time, so many moons ago when they sat desperately on the ark, their lungs gasping for air as he held her tightly. It was as if the world were standing still. 

"I need to see your leg and neck," Abby winced, trying to sit up. 

Marcus immediately pushed her back down, careful of her bandages. 

"Marcus," she frowned in anger, "I need to see your leg a-"

"No," he said, cutting her off, "you need to rest, you can see it later. I'll wrap a bandage around them for now"

She cursed under her breath. He was being ridiculous. If she didn't check him soon, he would get an infection, or his neck could swell so tight he wouldn't be able to breath. There were an endless number of probabilities. 

"God damn it, Marcus," she howled to him, her voice loud and demanding. He stopped what he was doing as his eyes instantly shot up to meet hers that were full of fire and hurt.  
"Please, I need to check your wounds. I thought I had lost you once and I don't want that to become a reality. We've come to far and suffered to much for you to die when there could have been a better way."  
Her voice showed anger when her eyes showed sorrow. He opened his mouth to say something, but he found himself speechless. All the feelings he had felt only moments before now completely washed away.  
"Come here, Marcus," she said, breaking his confused stare, his mouth agape. He stared at her for a few more moments before he clenched his jaw, and turned his body so that his neck was easily accessible to her. 

"Thank you," she spoke calmly, moving her hands up to inspect the damage. A chunk of flesh was torn from his neck, deep teeth marks decorating his skin. Dry blood stained his neck, dripping down onto his shoulder and continuing down his arm, a few drops reaching all the way to his fingers. A small infection was beginning to form, like it normally did when you receive a 'human' bite.  
He winced as she carefully pulled his matted strands of hair from the sore, the dried blood causing it to become stuck.  
"I'm sorry," she apologized, trying her best to clean it as softly as possible.  
The fire became brighter and brighter as it filled the dimly lit cave, the sun sinking further and further below the earth. She wouldn't be able to work properly without the natural light, and would have to check his leg the next day. However, she knew he'd be ok, knew he'd pull through. After all, he did have hope, and so did she. 

 

"Ow," Marcus whined, his leg jolting a little to the side as Abby carefully placed clean snow on the wound. 

"I'm sorry, but you have to stop moving," she said, "I've still to inspect the damage"

She'd been in a deep focus for quite awhile. Carefully, soaking up his blood with cloth after cloth, having to wash some in the snow for reuse. Of course she'd seen worse wounds than this but, very few had survived to tell about them. Truly, it was a Miracle either of them were still alive. But Abby didn't really want to pay any attention to the unusual odds, and she and a feeling neither did he. 

Abby prepared for the curses she knew would emerge from his mouth as she pulled the threading and fabric of his pants that was stuck in his leg, the dried blood engulfing them.  
"Damn it," he gasped, his teeth clenched and eyes closed. His hand came close to hers, only a few inches from the wound as his hand shook in the air. It took all of his strength to not grab at the pain, apply pressure as to help ease the sting that shot through him. 

His leg began to shake, jerking lightly against Abby's hands.  
"You have to stop the shacking, Marcus," Abby grunted, trying her best to still his quiver. 

"Sorry," was all he said as he tried his hardest to bring his mind in control of the limb. 

"You can't move your toes?" Abby questioned again, hoping his answer different than what it had been the last few times she had asked. 

"No," he sighed, his jaw clenching closed. He stared to the wall with a sadness in his eyes that Abby couldn't quiet comprehend. 

"Marcus I-"

"I know," he said, raising his voice, cutting her words short, "I know... If it comes to that, just- just make it quick, please"

Abby nodded in understanding. She'd performed a few amputations in her time, but never whilst the patient was awake. Her stomach twisted in knots just at the thought of it. Of the thought of him screaming under her hands as she blew fatal blows to his bone. The blood that would spill from his flesh, splattering across the walls and themselves. And it'd be all her fault, all her doing. Even if it had to be done, even if he knew it had to be done, would she ever be able to look at him the same again? To see his face everyday, the memories that would flood through her mind. 

"Would you hate me for it?" She finally whispered, looking into his eyes with a soft plead for help. 

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know if she was being serious. Hate her for bringing out the inevitable? There was so much he wanted to say, so many words that needed to be addressed, yet all he could mutter under his breath was a simple, "no."

"I haven't seen the full extent, so I don't know for sure if that's what we'll need to do"

He was silent for a few moments, or so Abby thought, until she peered up to him, a smile on his face and shoulders moving up and down. 

"Why are you laughing?" 

He tried to catch his breath and supply to her an answer, "because," he chuckled, "four months ago we were perfectly clean and healthy, screaming at each other until it seemed we'd pull the other apart, and now, here we are," he said, looking to the ground, the one corner of his mouth tipped towards the sky in a smile, "isn't quiet what we expected, is it"

Abby could see right through the mask he wore, not that he was really trying to wear one. His eyes were sad, weary, much like her own. He was right, four months, only four months, and now here they were. Perhaps it was the situation, or the past, but something has changed between them, and neither of them knew if it was for better or for worse. 

For the next twenty minutes, it was all the same. Abby would move something, Marcus would complain, move his leg, and then she'd have to start all over. She didn't want to take his boot off, in fear it'd pull his muscles even further apart, doing more damage. Instead she kept it on, and worked around the material that constantly got in her way. 

"So it's that bad, huh?" Marcus whispered, his eyes closed as his head rested on the floor. He was still exhausted, and the loss of blood only made it worse. 

"What do you mean?" Abby asked, continuing to work away. 

"Well," he informed her, an almost sarcastic tone in his voice, "you've been doing the same thing over and over, which means you obviously are trying to hold off on something you don't want to do"

Abby smiled to herself, surprised he actually pieced together what she was trying to hold off. 

"Come on, Abby," he said raising his head to her, "I think it's time we face the inevitable. If I'm going to die, I wish to get it over with"

"You aren't dying," she said, "not now. Just like you said to me, we've come to far, it isn't going to end like this" 

"Alright then, let's get this over with," he sighed, his eyes staring blankly towards the ceiling. 

Abby looked to his paled face. She never could have imagined something like this happening. Marcus pulling a bullet from her stomach, then the next day cutting his leg clean off. Abby expected earth to be a lot of things, but this was not one of them. It was those thoughts that ran through her head as she carefully cleansed the blade of Marcus's 'sword.' They had no sanitary cleanser, or even moonshine, to sanitize it, leaving Abby stuck with only snow, and prayers his wound didn't grow an infection. Though they both knew that all of their wounds were bound to be infected soon. 

That was one of the many things Abby worried about as she worked, and before she knew it, she was ready to begin the procedure. The blade clean, his leg cleared, now all she needed do was cut. 

"Are you ready?" she asked softly, the light of the fire hitting her face, providing her skin with much needed warmth as the sun disappeared below the horizon, the temperature dropping even lower. 

"I'm ready," Marcus nodded, his voice seemingly shaky. 

Abby took hold of his knee, her other hand gripping the machete tightly. It was typical to cut at the joints, making the operation easier, quicker. But, this wasn't going to be the case. His bared bone that travelled all around his leg was right in between his knee and ankle, and Abby wasn't going to be cutting more than she needed. Really, the leg was already off, it was just a matter of disposing of it. 

"Alright, I'm going to cut just above the bone, or else I may shatter it"

He nodded, not wanting nor needing say anything else. 

Abby gripped his knee tighter, her eyes moving down to focus on her point of impact. She wanted to gag at the thought of what was to come next, but her doctor mode was set on high, and she was prepared to do whatever it took to make sure both her and Marcus made it home safely. He saved her life just the other day, and she was prepared to pay him back. 

Raising the weapon slowly above her head, her arm slightly bent, she could not help but close her eyes, taking in a deep breath before slowly opening them again. Marcus watched her, his hand already grasping a stone that lay by his side, preparing for what was to come next. He couldn't help but stare back Into her dark, warm eyes. So full of sadness and fear, much like his own. He was scared, as was she and she knew it, but he was prepared, and the nervousness that felt would claw through his stomach began to subside. This game they were playing, against life and death, happiness and suffering, it was only a game, and they were only the pieces. 

"I love you, Abby," Marcus whispered

"I love you, Marcus, and I'm so sorry," Abby gasped back, right before she swung down her arm, the weapon slamming into his leg, sending a loud bang to echo through her ears. His screams of pain, the sudden jolting and quivering of his body, the sound of his bone snapping by her hand made her whole body shake. Over and over her hand came shooting down, and over and over his voice filled both their ears. Blood came pouring from his wound, but it was nothing new, and didn't faze either one even the slightest. 

Abby forced all of her anger into each blow. All of the deadly thoughts and memories of her life flooding back to her. Everything she'd done wrong, everything she wished she could do over fueled her even further. Her ears became deaf as her mind focused on every moment she became weak.  
Marcus screamed for mercy, pleaded her to stop, but her mind just kept racing. She murdered her husband, and anyone else who stole supplies needed for survival. She let her own daughter drop a bomb on TonDC, and now she was destroying the life of the man she loved. 

It was that sudden thought and realization that brought her mind back to reality. Her ears acknowledging the ringing of metal clashing against rock, Marcus's screams of agony, his pleads for her to end her thrashing. 

"Please, Abby," he cried, blood flowing from his mouth, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as a few tears fell softly to the ground ,"stop please stop."

Abby froze, the bloodied sword dropping to the floor with a clash. She grabbed his hand that desperately clawed at the floor, searching for something to hold.  
Marcus squeezed her hand tightly, moaning as his mind slowly lost consciousness, the pain in his leg to great to bear. His head fell to the side, blood from his mouth collecting onto the floor. Yet his hand still clutched hers tightly as if he were still awake and suffering. Abby began to sob as she leaned down, her head resting against his stomach.  
This man she had loved so much, this man that would do anything to protect her, was near dead, and she didn't know if she had the strength to fix him. Abby began to shake as she held onto him even tighter, her mind racing with thoughts as the dark world around her seemed to sit still. She lived a nightmare that she didn't know would ever end. 

"Marcus," she pleaded, turning her head so that she could hear his heart beating faintly under her ear, her head facing his, "Marcus, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for any of this to ever happen, I should ha-" she cut her sentence short, taking a deep breath, sorting through her thoughts. She was about to begin again when she stopped herself. What was she saying? What was this lie she was beginning to tell him? To tell herself. The sudden realization that had dawned on her had hit with a strong force, and she was prepared to strike back. 

"I did this to you," Abby began, lifting her head, "I did this to you and I can't just walk away from that. I'm going to fix you, you understand? I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure you're ok."

Abby immediately set to work. Quickly drying her tears as his blood from her hands smeared across her face, but she paid no attention to it. Taking the extra shirt from her pack and knife from her belt, she began to cut fresh bandages to layer around the stump at the end of Marcus's leg. She had little to work with, but it didn't matter. She was smart, and with enough hope and determination, Abby Griffin knew she could fix anybody.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Abby get moving, but meet with complications along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a few things in it that some may find 'disturbing,' so here's a warning that also contains a little spoiler, so  
> IF YOU READ THIS WARNING, IT DOES CONTAIN A SPOILER ::: if you've had a failed pregnancy or are infertile and are scarred from it or don't wish to bring back memories, you can by all means skip this chapter, or stop reading this fic, it's perfectly ok

Overmorrow Chapter 3

"Marcus...," Abby whispered , nudging him softly. She waited for an answer, or some form of acknowledgement, but received nothing.  
"Marcus," she repeated louder than the first, nudging his shoulder a little harder. He finally came to as Abby poked his newly shortened leg, a mild pain catching his attention. 

"Gah," he gasped, leaning up a little from the ground to rub the area around his sore, "what was that for?" he looked to her, his voice calm yet tired. 

"I'm sorry, but it's been three days, and trust me when I say that I'm well aware you need more rest, but I think we should get moving, we're running out of rations, and we're going to be at higher risk for infection soon enough,"  
Her eyes scanned the forest from within their small cavern, picking up every little detail as if she feared they were being watched. 

"I understand," he groaned, using all the strength in his arms to sit up, his legs stretched out in front of him as the fire helped warm his bare arms, "and I agree, we can't linger too long, and if Bellamy and Lincoln did manage to get themselves and others to safety, I'm sure they're already awaiting us back at Camp Jaha"

Abby didn't reply. They both knew he was right, and so they saved their energy by keeping their mouths closed, as to not say any unneeded words. 

"I wrapped your leg with new bandages , and I got everything packed up, all we need to do is leave"

Marcus nodded as he searched the area around him, looking for an object useful and sturdy enough to help him stand. The wall provided little use, it's crevices too short and slick for his fingers to grasp, and he found himself falling back to the ground, landing with a thud. 

His surprised gasp caught Abby's attention, and she was at his side in moments, taking his arm as she helped hoist him up. It took a few seconds for him to catch his balance. Abby helped hold him in place, being extra careful to not hurt his neck, or let him tumble down to the floor. 

As Marcus regained control, he let one hand go from Abby and hold onto the wall beside them, "thank you"

Abby nodded, making sure he was content where he stood, before turning back to throw on her pack. Now that most rations and bandages were used, it was very light, and didn't prove to be much on a nuisance. Once she was positive the pack was tightly secure, she turned to face Marcus, who hadn't moved from his spot. 

Now that he was upright, his bandage began to leak with blood. The red splotches grew wider and wider the more he stood. However, there was nothing Abby could do for it. They had to save bandages for later, or else they would surely run out. And she had already been forced to tear up both their extra shirts and winter coats, leaving their clothes dirty, bloody, and unfit for the harsh climate outside their haven. 

Neither of them said a word as Abby took his arm and swung it around her neck, Marcus doing the same with hers. She gasped a little they both leaned onto one another. 

"Are you ok?" He asked concerned, flicking his eyes to get stomach and back up to her face. 

"I'm fine," she said quietly, "it's just still a little sore"

Once she caught her bearings again, Abby slowly began moving forward, helping pull Marcus along with her. It was all about concentration. As long as they kept a steady pattern, their pace was quite quick, and they made good time. Their squad was about three days from home when the beasts hit. Even though their pace was quick, Abby wouldn't be surprised if it took them four. The snow didn't look like it was melting anytime soon, thanks to the dark, gloomy clouds that shrouded the sun, and polar frost that seeped through the land like fog. Abby could feel the goosebumps that arose on his arm, no doubt he could feel the same on her. 

As time went on, Marcus became more and more dehydrated. The taste of iron was still stuck in the back of his throat. It burned after each word he spoke, and it only became worse as time went on. He wondered if Abby felt the same way, but he didn't bother asking. They were making good progress, and he didn't want to stop if it wasn't absolutely necessary. His leg stung every time he would take another step, his bandage collecting more and more blood. After awhile he noticed his neck beginning to bleed as well, blood rolling down his biceps and trailing on the ground as they hobbled on. Those weren't the only tracks they had left. Their foot prints became one with the snow, they sticky powder crunching under their steps. Marcus enjoyed the sound, it somehow brought a calmness to his mind, helped him relax and take his thoughts from the hurt radiating from his injury. 

The light became lesser and lesser until they were both certain the sun had disappeared below the horizon. The wintery chill became even more harsh as they struggled in finding an ideal place to rest. They were lucky in finding an overhang just off from a dried riverbed, no doubt carved out by the waters that once flowed rapidly through the area. It had proved to be a good shelter from the wind. A heavy storm must had passed through the area as well, leaving a large log pushed against the back wall, it's dead bark perfect for a fire. By the time night was completely upon them, they had a fire lit, and rations prepared before them. 

Neither of them had eaten in days, their loss of appetite getting the best of them. Marcus tried passing on his meal, but Abby was prepared to stop him. 

"Marcus, cut it out," she fought, swatting at his hand as he began folding his ration bag up again for later. 

"Abby," he sighed, "I am not hungry, it's best for me to save my ration for later"

"No, this is unhealthy. I've already noticed a difference in your weight since we've got into this mess, your shirt is loose, and I can already see your ribs"

"Me? What about you?" He argued, "you've yet to change your bandages, and it's making your bullet wound even worse, who knows what damage it has already done"

"Marcus I don't want to argue right now, you are acting like a child. Eat, or you won't have enough strength to make it home"

"Then leave me," he jumped, "you'd get home a hell of a lot faster, and wouldn't have to worry about bandages for the both of us"

Abby's face was red with anger, "after all we've been through to get here, and you advise me to leave you behind? What are you thinking? Is this your way of giving up? Because the Marcus I remember is stubborn as Hell. Where did that Marcus go-"

"He is gone," Marcus exploded, shouting to her, "he is gone with the rest of me. Chopped off and left behind to rot away. I am broken, Abby, and if the rest of my life is going to be me, depending on everybody else to pull my weight, holding them back as I hop around like some freak, then why would I even bother going back-"

"Because I need you, Marcus," Abby said, loudly, cutting him off. Her voice wasn't angry, or harsh, but sad and lonely. Marcus stopped his harsh words, not even realizing he had said them until that moment.  
Abby looked to be fire and back to him, finding her courage to speak up.  
"I-I uhm..." She stumbled, chuckling to herself, her mouth forming into a saddening smile, Marcus could have sworn he had seen small tears beginning to form.  
"I'm pregnant I-I was pregnant, with out child but... The bullet hit just right I guess... I didn't know until the day we left... I was going to tell you when we got back, but... I guess it's a little late"

Marcus didn't know what to say, he felt frozen in place. His eyes starring into hers, almost in disbelief. A father? He was going to be a father? 'Was.' 

"You..." He said quietly, almost in a whisper, "we were going to have a child? Together?"  
His voice was filled with a tone similar to confusion. What had he done?  
"This is my fault, Abby, I-I did this," his breathing began to pick up, his eyes moving to a sort of crazed image, sweat beginning to form on his brow, "I let you out of my sight, I failed to protect you and I failed to protect my child. I can't even protect myself, Abby, I- I'm so sorry I-"

"Hey," Abby whispered, scooting over to where he sat across the fire, taking his hand as she rested her head against his chest, calming his panic-like state, "it isn't your fault, Marcus," she kept whispering, both of them staring into the same fire,"it's no ones fault, do you understand? I should have told you, we both would have treaded more carefully," her voice began to roughen, a wave of emotion flooding through her mind, she squeezed his hand even tighter, him returning the gesture, "we are going to get thorough this together, ok?"

Tears fell from both of their faces. Abby snuggled closer into his chest, as Marcus hugged onto her shoulders, holding her in a tight embrace. Neither of them didn't know what to feel, in all honesty, they felt nothing. Almost numb. 

"I-I had no idea, Abby... This must be so hard for you," he whispered, "I can't imagine what you are feeling..."

"Even if it was an accident, If you really did want a child, I would tell you we could always try again, that there's always next time, but I can't. The bullet hit just right, I'm Infertile"

Marcus didn't know what to say. Of course he wanted a child, always had. He thought one day it would change him, make him a better man than he once was. But the world just moved to fast, he didn't know where the time went, and before he knew it, it was too late. He never thought him and Abby would conceive a child. The odds were just so small. He thought he'd feel new. He thought he would know what true happiness felt like when he learnt he would be having a child. But now he knows he's not supposed to have that feeling. He's not supposed to know. 

"You said we'd make it through this," and that's what I intend to do, Abs. Now get some sleep, you need it," he assured her, trying his best to help her. 

"Promise me you'll eat your breakfast?" 

Marcus couldn't hold back his light chuckle, "ok," he whispered, his voice deep and tired, yet a small smile still on his lips, "I promise."  
He kissed the top of her head, "we're gonna be ok, we're gonna be ok"

What Abby thought would be a rough night turned into a night of comfort and warmth. She felt safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt her. Like the whole world could charge to them, and they would receive not a scratch.  
The night wore on, the fire dying down, yet neither of them became cold. They held each other until the sun began to rise upon the horizon, another day, another dawn, yet the same sun. Both of them knew it wasn't the end, even Marcus knew it wasn't over now. As long as they worked together, everything would be ok. In the morning, when they had both awakened, the warmth of each other's bodies keeping them comfort, all the memories of the night before that came rushing back to them both. 

"Marcus?" Abby whispered to him, knowing he was awake. 

"Abs," he replied, his arms still wrapped around her in a warm embrace. 

"I'm ready to go home."

 

§₩§

 

Abby awoke in the morning, his arms around her, the once warm fire now only dying embers, a light snow beginning to fell outside of their overhang. She could have sworn she had heard something, making her stir in her sleep, but as she sat motionless, listening intently to her surroundings, all she heard was the light beating of Marcus's heart, her head still resting against his chest. She smiled at his calm breathing, the warmth he gave to her, the protective feeling that radiated from him to her, and her to him. She'd never felt that way before, not even with Jake, and she hoped the feeling would never leave her. And it didn't, that was until she could hear the faint crunch of snow from out their door. 

She immediately sat up, her eyes wide as they looked out into the barren, white landscape. She had thought she heard something earlier, now she was certain. Twisting around she lightly nudged Marcus on the shoulder, trying her best to be as quiet as possible.  
"Marcus," she whispered, as hushed as she could.  
His eyes immediately began to flutter open, an almost confused look on his face as he caught his senses. 

"What's wro-" Abby cut off his question with a quiet shush, giving him all the information he needed to know that someone, or something, was near. He searched for his gun, with no avail, and finally settled with the machete at his belt. Carefully, he helped Abby from him, letting her use his hands as she stood as quietly as she could. Once she was up, she took ahold of his arm, and in one quick pull, he was standing as well, holding onto her shoulder for support.

"Do you see anything?" He whispered quietly, his weapon at the ready, eyes watchful to the outside world. 

Abby waited, looking out into the landscape as a light snow began to fall from the clouds above.  
"Nothing," she replied. 

They were both ready to give up, until the crunching of steps were heard again, closer than before. Marcus was prepared to say something when a voice he could have sworn he'd heard before call to him. 

"Marcus of the Sky People, put down your weapon, we mean you no harm" spoke a strong voice. 

Abby paused, "Nyko," she said, almost in astonishment. 

He jumped from the ground above them, landing with a thud in front of the overhangs opening. Eyeing them cautiously, he still had a dagger at the ready. That was until he caught sight of Abby's bloody shirt, and the absence of Marcus's foot. It was then he lowered his weapon, motioning for other trikru to join him. 

"What happened here?" He asked in bewilderment, stepping forward to help Abby lower Marcus to the ground.

"We were on our way to Polis," she began, "we were attacked by some form of mutation"

"And his leg?"

Abby finished setting him down before looking back to Nyko, "they basically chewed it off"

He nodded in understanding, before slowly and gently undoing his bandages. As he worked, three other grounders entered the cave, keeping their distance as they watched them work.  
"What about you, Abby of the Sky People? Are you hurt?" He questioned, glancing to her before returning his attention to Marcus. 

"A bullet to the stomach. But, unlike his, it isn't infected, I'll only be needing stitches"

Nyko did not reply, just kept fiddling away with the dirt and blood covered bandages that masked his stump. Finally, he had reached the wound, inspecting it carefully. Sure enough, his leg was still bleeding, the surrounding skin dyed red with blood. 

"You said it was infected?"

Abby motioned towards Marcus's neck, "not his leg, his neck, one bit him, tore some flesh, it'll need stitches as well"

Nyko nodded and leaned forward to lift up the gauze like bandage that kept Marcus's blood from oozing down his arm. His neck shown a clear sign of infection. A chunk of flesh torn from its place, visible teeth marks, and bruises on the skin. 

"We should get you both back to TonDC," he said standing, looking to Abby. 

She frowned, "I wish that were an option, but Indra wouldn't be to h-"

Nyko cut her sentence short, "Indra is on her way to Polis, she left me in charge. Now come, grab your things, you both are in need of help"

Abby paused before finally nodding, turning around to grab her pack. Nyko and another grounder took ahold of Marcus's shoulders, hoisting him up in mere seconds. He nodded his thanks. 

As one was prepared to help him walk, Abby stopped them, "I have him," she said, a protective tome taking her voice. 

"You are inju-"

"No," she growled quickly, she cleared her throat before beginning again in a nicer tone, "I mean no, please, I have him"

Marcus couldn't help but butt into the conversation, "Abby, you shou-" he closed his mouth at the sight of her deathly gaze, rethinking his words.

"We must move," Nyko Shouted as he exited the mouth of the cave, "TonDC is an hours journey, no doubt the snow will have picked up by then" 

Abby stepped forward, taking Marcus's arm and swinging it around her neck, him doing the same to hers. Together they joined the rest of the Trikru, who awaited them patiently. No words were spoken as they departed.

Abby trudged along carefully, pulling Marcus gently beside her. He tried his hardest to put as little weight on her as possible, but with only one functioning leg, it was hard to hop over the foot of snow in order to move, without leaning onto her. However, she didn't mind, and understood it was what he needed to do if they were to get anywhere.  
His thigh burned and his breathing became heavy, again he yearned for water. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up with their speed. He wanted to ask for water, wanted to ask for them to slow their pace, but he couldn't bring himself to. He thought himself a burden to them with his inability to walk, he didn't wish for that list to grow. Instead, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.  
He looked down to his bandages. He had noticed them dripping earlier, leaving behind a trail of crimson. Now, the blood fell like an overfilled stream, landing in the snow. 

"Abby," he gasped out of breath, sweat falling from his brow,"I'm leaving a trail"

She glanced behind them, taking note of the red drops that ran as far back as she could see.  
"That you are," she commented, "let's hope we get to TonDC before someone, or something, follows it" 

He was going to reply, until a burst of pain radiated through his leg.  
He winced loudly in hurt, his teeth bared as he gritted them together his eyes tightly closed. He thought he heard Abby call to him, but he was unsure, his hearing beginning to become muffled. Before he knew what was happening he was on his knees, his eyes weakly opening to see Abby, cupping his cheeks as she shook his head, trying her hardest to bring him back to reality. His sight was blurred, and his mind became confused. He fell to his side, the snow embracing him in a cold blanket, his eyes beginning the close. The last thing he heard before he went blank was Abby's voice, his name on her lips. 

§₩§

The first thing Marcus realized as he began to awaken was the tingly sensation in his leg. He didn't quite know how to describe the feeling, but it was the first time in at least a week he hadn't awaken to the sting shooting through his body. Where was he? Where was Abby?  
"Abby?" He asked, patiently awaiting an answer, his mind racing with questions. Was she ok? Was she even alive?  
"Abby?" He repeated, his eyes still closed, for he found himself unable to open them. It wasn't until a faint light was seen at the bottom of his vision did he realize his eyes were covered. He tried bringing his hands to his face, but found them bound to his cot. 

Marcus began to panic, pulling on the restraints as hard as he could, trying to break free.  
"Abby," he cried, worrying overcoming him, "Abby," he repeated.  
He was about to start again when a soft hand touched his, another softly grabbing his hair, stroking it lightly.  
"Sh, it's ok... It's ok I'm here," she whispered.  
Marcus immediately recognized the calming voice, his panic subsiding.  
He was relieved when she tore the cloth from his eyes, his sight returning to normal.  
Abby smiled softly towards him, still stroking the thick locks atop his head.

"A-Abby," he stumbled, trying his hardest to speak, "are you ok?"

Her heart broke a little at his helpless eyes,"I'm fine Marcus, " she said, carefully untying his wrists, "I'm sorry, you kept clawing at your neck when we gave you stitches"

"It's ok," he commented, "I understand"  
Once he was finally free, he slowly sat up, looking back into her eyes. 

Abby waited for him to say something, anything. He was prepared to speak before he stopped himself. Instead, he cupped her cheeks, pulling himself to her lips as he kissed her long and hard. She eagerly returned the gesture. Her hand that once lightly stroked his hair now gripped it tightly, pulling on his dark locks, bringing him closer. She moaned as he began kissing his way down her neck, stopping as he rest his forehead against hers, out of breath. 

"So, where are we?" He panted, looking glancing around the small room. It held two beds, including his own, and a small fire towards the center, filling the room with warm glow, and a toasty feel. A small desk say by the edge of his bed as well, sitting empty. 

"We're in TonDC, Nyko said we could stay to recuperate," she breathed heavily,"you should sleep," she said, "it's late"

"I can't," he smiled, "not unless I have you next to me"

Abby smirked, placing her hand firmly on his chest as she pushed him back down, "well, that can be fixed," she said, straddling his hips as she leaned over, her hand placed gently over his peppered beard. She kissed his lips, each of them savoring one another's flavor. Abby couldn't stop, she was addicted to him. She loved the sound he made when she ground her hips against his, the low hum that would escape his throat. She loved pulling away, listening to the suction of their lips reach for each other's, before going back again for more. She moved her hands from his beard to his soft hair, running her fingers through it.  
His hands rested on the back of her ribcage, feeling each breath she took. 

Abby kissed him again and again, that was until a small gasp escaped his lips, his leg shifting beneath her as a shock echoed through his body, starting at his wound. She pulled away, her face only inches from his as their noses brushed together.

"Are you ok?" She asked concerned, glancing down at his leg before back up into his eyes. 

"I'm fine, it just hurts...I can feel it...," he paused, catching his breath, "like it's still there, like nothing ever happened"

"It's ok," Abby assured him, "it will pass, I promise"  
She kissed him again, long and hard, his lips pressed against hers, before she rolled from his waist and lay at his side, Marcus pulling up the blanket to embrace them both. They both turned onto their sides, Marcus's arm under Abby as he wrapped his arms around her stomach, careful of her stitches and bruised areas. She held onto his hands as her head leaned back against his chest, their legs intertwined together. 

It was silent for a few moments before Abby turned her head, pecking him on the lips softly before turning back, "I love you," she said as she drifted off to sleep. 

Marcus smiled, his eyes becoming more and more droopy, "I love you too"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soon, and feedback is always great, hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby is awakened to bumps in the night.

Overmorrow Chapter 4

Abby awoke to the sound of a large crash echo through their tent. Her eyes opened, her ears listening to any suspicious noise. The wind howled rapidly outside their door, the dimly lit tent seeming it'd may almost fall down   
atop of them. But she didn't worry, she felt safe wrapped in Marcus's arms, or so she thought.   
It was then she noticed his absence, what she thought was his arm nothing more than a part of their blanket. 

She sat up, scanning the room with caution. Nothing.   
"Marcus?" She said, the dim fire darkening the room, making it even more of a struggle to see.   
With his lack of an answer, worry began to course through Abby's veins, and she quickly jumped from his bed, and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, helping to keep her warm. 

"Marcus?" She repeated, taking a few steps towards her bed. But again, nothing. Now, her worry was overcoming her, consuming her. There was a feeling in her gut she knew was not to be good. 

She jumped at the sound of a thud from behind her. Peering back she was almost frozen in place.   
"Marcus?" She whispered again, slowly moving closer and closer to where she had thought the sound had originated from. That was until a weak cough brought her attention to the back corner of their tent. She could barely make out his hand, and both his legs visible from the shadows with help from the light of the fire. The rest of him was hard to see, and the darkness of their room shroud his face from her vision. 

"Marcus, what are yo-" she was going to ask him a question. Ask him why he was slouched in the corner, hidden away from everyone and everything. That was until she saw the two empty flasks of whiskey next to him. She'd seen them on their night stand before. Nyko had left them, knowing it helped with the cold if they needed them. Guess she forgot to mention Marcus had a history of alcoholism.   
She knelt next to him, trying to shake him to awaken, with no luck. 

His skin was soaked in sweat, his body burning. He clawed into the dirt with his hands, leaving scratches in the dry ground. His eyes closed tightly as he breathed heavy. She watched as his head moved lightly back and fourth. His body trembling as low moans escaped his throat.   
"Marcus," Abby shouted, taking hold of his cheeks, shacking him lightly, "Marcus, you have to wake up"  
His slumber was light, and that was all it took for his eyes to shoot open, sitting straight up, he knocked Abby to the ground. She landed with a thud, her eyes surprised as they shared frightened looks. She shook off her apparent shock, and jumped up, coming again closer to Marcus. 

"Marcus, what the hell are you doing?" She asked, her hand on his shoulder. 

He slowly leaned back again, his body loosening only a little. He didn't know how to answer. He didn't even know where he was. Confusion set it, his head slowly lowering to the ground, where he eyed the two empty bottles of alcohol next to him. He began laughing as his head came up again, chuckling to himself as all the thoughts of the night before came rushing back to him. 

"I tried forgetting," he smiled, "then I remembered I couldn't" 

"Marcus? Forget? Forget what?" She asked, confuses at his sudden strange, and rather insane, behavior. 

His smile turned to a frown as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes still on hers. He finally began his explanation just as a gust of wind began to pick up outside.  
"When I learned Clarke left, I thought she was being ridiculous, over reacting. But now I know. I know what it feels like to be here, now, with you. What I did, what we did, to get here," he began to chuckle to himself," do you know what my dream was about?" he began to frown, his smile fading, "you were there, a bullet in your stomach, blood in the snow. Next thing I knew, my leg was gone and you were crying into my chest over our unborn child. When I woke up I thought it was all a dream, until I realized I was living the nightmare"

Abby looked to him with wide eyes, his own showing sadness and fear. There was a vile taste in his mouth, sour and dry. His head ached and his stomach burned. He felt sick, his face no doubt turning white. Abby snapped from her deep thought when she noticed his clammy state. Immediately turning to grab a bucket that lay next to the fire, throwing the water out into the snow, and quickly returning to him as she shoved it into his grasp. She watched as he emptied the contents of his stomach, comforting him through his state of discomfort. Even after there was nothing left to rid of, he dry heaved for what felt like hours. 

Once he was finished, Abby pushed the pail off to the side, cupping his cheeks, helping rub the sweat that dripped from his skin. He was a mess, but she didn't care, so was she.   
Her hair was knotted, clothes twisted. However, she didn't feel gross, in fact she didn't feel anything. Not the soreness of her stomach, the uneasy feeling that seeped through her bones, the cold that layered her skin as the fire died to embers. All she felt was the heat of his skin on her cold hands, the sound of his heavy breathing. 

His eyes were almost crazed, confused. She didn't know if he was sick, insane, or so lost in thought he was terrified. 

"Marcus," Abby said, trying her best to snap him from his crazed state, "Marcus, calm down. Everything is ok," she said calmly, trying her best to soothe his tired mind.  
He slowly began to come back, his eyes relaxing and breathing becoming more normal. Even his color returned to its natural state, which was enough to let Abby know that he would be ok, for now. 

She released the tension that was held through her body as she looked into his eyes, slowly letting go of his cheeks, her hands falling to his. 

"I'm sorry, Abby," he muttered, looking down to the floor, too ashamed to look at her any longer, "I just... Didn't think I would let it get that bad"

She sat beside him on the ground, holding his hand as a reassuring gesture, "why?"

He chuckled to the ground, "didn't I tell you...? Holding you in my arms... It- just made me think of what I did to take that away from so many people... I tried to forget. Tried..."

Abby didn't know what to say, and so she remained silent. It'd been so long since he'd been remembered as the man who murdered 300 people. Abby remembered catching wind of his new nickname at the time he slit a mans throat himself, Killer Kane. She had thought it was ridiculous, name making like that was made for children in her mind, that was until she found the man's throat he slit was his own father's. Then to float Jake, murder 300 people, shock lash her. Now that she looked back on all the little details, all the things he'd done, and yet still be sitting here, on Earth with her, it was a miracle. But there was also the good. Saving his mother from murder, crawling through a damaged ark to save her hide, sacrificing himself almost three times to save his people. Not to mention standing by Abby's side after he had realized he was wrong, about almost everything. 

"I deserve this, Abby," he said quietly, his eyes focused on one spot of the floor.

She became confused, "deserve what?"

"This. Loosing my leg, my child, almost loosing you... Maybe this is how I am to answer for my sins"

Abby smiled to herself, "maybe. But it'll be better, just you wait. Soon, we'll be home, safe. By then we'll have a busy camp to run. I bet we almost forget what happened, then and now"

They both knew it was a fib, but neither of them said anything. Normally they'd try to avoid lying to themselves like so, but now, it was all they could really do to ease the pain of their memories. 

"Come on," Abby finally said breaking the silence, squeezing his hand a little tighter, "we should get back to sleep. Nyko wanted to speak with us in the morning, and we'll have some more work to do on your neck and my stomach, not to mention packing for the trip ahead of us"

"Busy schedule," Marcus groaned, trying to stand. His leg was wobbly and as he finally stood, a sudden feeling of nausea overtook him. Abby took note of his struggle and immediately stood to grab his side, helping him stay upright.   
"Thanks," he muttered, feeling almost ashamed. 

Together they slowly made their way across the room and to his cot, the blankets now cold and uncomfortable,  
for the time being.   
"Stay with me again?" He asked, sitting down softly, looking up to Abby. 

"Of course"

They both jumped under the blanket again, wrapping each other in their heat, working on warming their freezing cold bodies. The chill in the air was nothing compared to what they had experienced before, but it was still a bite that they would rather have disappear.   
As soon as Marcus began to gently stroke Abby's hair did she feel a wave of tried wash over her. It wasn't long before she was finally able to forget the events that had just occurred for only a few moments, and drift off into a shallow sleep. Marcus could feel her body limp under his arm, and was relieved she was managing to find a peaceful way to sleep. He, however, lay alone, listening to the wind that howled in the night. He could have sworn he had heard a scream in the frozen gale, but perhaps it was only his imagination. 

§₩§

"Wake up, Sky People, you must wake up," Nyko said, nudging Marcus and Abby as he stood before them. 

Abby turned onto her back, confused on the sudden interruption of their slumber. Marcus had barely been able to capture any sleep at all, and moaned as his face was still stuffed into his pillow. 

"What is wrong," Abby asked, tossing the blanket from her to stand. 

Nyko looked from Marcus to her, "I am sorry for the interruption, but it is late, and Indra could return at any time. If you wish to leave by the next sun, we must get moving"

"Sorry," she apologized, "we will meet you in the medical tent, we shouldn't be long" 

He nodded in understanding, before glancing to Marcus again, chuckling to himself. Abby could've sworn she had heard a joke muttered under his breath as he exited through the door of their tent. 

"Marcus, wake up," Abby said, running her fingers through her hair.   
After no answer, as usual, she tried nicely one last time, "Marcus, it's time to wake up"  
Still, silence. She sighed, removing her fingers from her golden locks.   
"Marcus Kane," she shouted, punching him in the shoulder.   
He immediately flipped and sat up, his eyes wide, "who's here?" he nearly shouted.   
Abby couldn't contain her laughter, his sudden jump nearly making her bend over with amusement. 

"Nyko just left," she continued to giggle, "but it's late, we need to get moving"

He frowned at her sense of humor, but soon found the funny in his actions as Abby began to mock him.   
"Stop making fun of me," he smiled, pulling her back down to the bed, pinching all over he arms. 

"Ouch!" She smiled, trying to fight back, "why are you so mean?" 

He stopped and frowned, looking into her eyes with a serious expression,"because you started it"

She kissed him softly and quickly on the lips, before immediately jumping up. Her sudden actions made him loose his act, and he smiled as she stuck her tongue out at him.   
"Here, I'll help you up. We should get going, I have a feeling all our bandages need changed"

Marcus nodded as he stood, shifting to the door as he searched for his one boot. He'd already perfected putting on his shoe with one leg, not that it was hard, and had it on just as Abby was prepared to leave. 

"Wait," Marcus began, stopping Abby as she was going to open the flaps of their tent, "I'm sorry about last night, and I understand if you're upset, b-"

"Hey," she said,"it's in the past, there's no point in looking back now"  
She gave him her arm as she pecked his cheek with her lips, trying her hardest to let him know it was ok.   
He only smiled and gently took her arm, walking with her as they strolled out into the snow. 

§₩§

"Ow," Marcus whined, swatting at Abby's hand as she carefully stitched his neck. 

She groaned at his behavior, "Cut it out, I'm never going to get done if you keep hitting me"

"I'm not hitting you," he mumbled, "I'm lightly tapping for you to stop"  
That comment earned him a purposeful pinch in his side, making him jump with surprise.   
He hadn't said much, only spoke when spoken to, and said as few words as one could to respond. That was until he began to be poked left and right. Abby had never heard him complain so much in her life. Then again, it was Marcus Kane she was patching, and he was quite unpredictable at times. 

"Damn it," Abby cursed, blood seeping into the fabrics of his newly cleansed shirt, "sorry"

He only glanced at the red blotch and shrugged. They'd both been so used to blood on their clothes, holes on their sleeves, wearing two garments so you couldn't see their pale, bare skin underneath. All the blood did was blend in with the rest of its flaws. 

"I sent word to Polis about your inability to make the meeting," Nyko began, entering into medical, a letter in hand, "I made sure to include details, so they could see just how great your loss was. The message I received back was from Clarke, she had represented the Skaikru for you"

Abby was glad to hear Clarke had made it, and that they didn't have to worry about attempting another journey to the city. Se trusted her daughter to represent them well, and so her questions were few.   
"What was the verdict?" She asked, her eyes still transfixed on the bite of Marcus's neck, her hands working carefully to pull his skin together. 

"The mutants are not what we expected," he began, "A.L.I.E did not create them. You see, when any grounder is born with a defect, they are cast away, seen as a stain in the bloodline. It seems most have teamed with her for revenge. Our plan is to eliminate them first, then time will tell if we will march on to the City of Light"

Abby sighed. Great, another war, exactly what she wanted to hear. She'd once thought the hardest time in her life was and would always be on the ark. However she was really starting to rethink her mind. All this fighting, all this death, and she still didn't know what it did to help. But this was her life now, and she knew good and well she couldn't change it. 

"Thank you, Nyko," she nodded, cutting the thread that laced together Marcus's wound. Another job done. 

"By the wind I heard you were leaving today, come by the armory before hand. You can't go out there as unarmed as you were," he didn't wait for a response. But left them to their privacy, disappearing out into the frozen world. 

It was silent for awhile. Marcus sat patiently, Abby organized her equipment, made a few adjustments to his stitches and checked his leg, all of which were healing correctly.   
Her stomach was still a little red, the infection still not completely dealt with, but she felt every hour it healed more and more.   
She was grateful over the hospitality of the Trikru, most didn't mind their short lived visit, and found striking a conversation with the guests was a pleasure. However, they weren't all happy with their presence. Marcus found that out the hard way. 

With every last bit of strength he had, he hobbled through the deep snow with Abby, the sight of the armory bringing his spirits up with each passing moment. He was still having problems getting used to his disability. Sometimes, as he lay still at night, he could still feel it, like his leg was still there. Sometimes it hurt, but others it felt normal. He liked the feeling. He liked how he could pretend everything was ok, that he wasn't missing anything, that everything was how it should be. But then the sun would rise and he would pull the blanket from his body and realize he was being foolish. That this is what his life was now, and he couldn't go back, no matter how much he wanted to. 

The armory was a little different than either of them had expected. Nyko had gifted them both with a fine sword, and a few words of warning.   
"Never cross the frozen river, and do not stray to far west, there is evil there, understood?"   
Both Abby and Marcus nodded in understanding.   
"I am sorry there is nothing else we can do for you leg, but now that you have proper weapons, fresh food, and more bandages, I feel you both will do just fine out there. Here, Neevanah doesn't like outsiders, especially the Skaikru, but she made this for you, I believe you may be changing her mind. I wish you both the best of luck," he said, handing Marcus a bottle, tinted with green. 

Abby painted a light smile on her face, as a sign of gratitude, "thank you, Nyko. Give us word whenever, and we will be glad to repay your hospitality with whatever you ask"

"Thank you, my friends, may the road lead you home," that was the last they saw of him before he let them be, leaving to tend to his duties. 

"Well," Abby sighed, looking over to Marcus whom she helped stand by her side, "are you ready to go?" 

"Aye, let's get it over with" 

Abby chuckled. It was only supposed to be a ten hour hike home, but with the freezing temperatures and lack of speed, not to mention the time of day, spending one more night in the wilderness was bound to occur. Luckily, the storms were said to be passing, making shelter not as big as a priority. 

As they set out away from the city, the grey of their fires disappearing further and further into the distance, Abby could feel the worst was behind them. She was rather excited to return home as well. To sleep in her own bed, work in her own medical unit. 

"Well," Marcus said, working on striking a conversation, hoping to break the boring silence of the frosty winter earth, "I'm rather excited to return home, I won't have to spend so much time with you"

"Ha ha, very funny," Abby smiled sarcastically, "admit it, you'd die if I left for a day"

"Of a broken heart," Marcus joked in a high pitched tone, his face turned as he battered his eye lashes towards her. 

She laughed and pushed his head away, her whole hand on his face. He giggled at her reaction, and kept moving forward. 

"Could we stop a moment? I'm a bit thirsty," he asked. Normally he'd fight the urge for water, knowing they had to keep moving. But, with only him and Abby, a short distance till home, and a good understanding of the land, stopping for a quick drink wasn't going to hurt. 

"Of course," Abby said, "I could use a drink as well"  
She led them towards a few large boulders just off their trail that would prove nicely as a makeshift chair.   
Digging through her pack, she pulled out a canteen of water, and the bottle of unknown liquid.   
"I'm going to stick with water, but whatever is in that bottle I'm sure you'll like, taking it's most likely a form of alcohol"

Marcus grinned, reaching for the glass, "you know me too well"  
Taking a quick swig, he almost spat the liquid back out, his body jumping in surprise. It wasn't that it was bad, just not the taste he had expected. 

"Are you ok?" Abby asked concerned

He pulled the bottle from his mouth, resting it on his knee, his expression a mix of confusion and disgust.   
"I'm fine, just not what I expected that to taste like. There's no alcohol, but there's lots of fruity things, and something else, but I can't place my finger on it. Want some?" He asked, extending the bottle towards her. 

"No, no I'm good," she chuckled, pushing it lightly away. 

Marcus smirked and shrugged,"more for me then," he joked, taking a few gulps, quenching his thirst. 

Once they had rested for a few more moments, talking quietly amongst themselves, they packed their supplies, and began their march home again.   
Their soft coats protected them well from the cold, and the fact that they knew exactly where they were going helped quicken their pace. 

The clouds were still thick in the sky, but the birds found it not a reason to stop their singing as snowflakes fell from the branches above their heads. The forest was white and peaceful, to peaceful. Neither of them were so used to the calmness that surrounded them. They were always in the middle of swarming people in camp, or several guards marching by their side as they journeyed to some far away village. But now, it was just them, and neither were complaining. 

As dusk approached rapidly, the weather seemingly serene, Abby questioned when it would be time for a rest, "here would be a good place to stop"   
She was prepared to help him down before he stopped her, "wait, there's something I want to show you, it's just up ahead"

Abby was confused, but didn't question him, and happily helped him as he lead the way.   
Marcus wasn't lying when he said it was just up ahead. Taking what felt like only a few steps, he stopped.   
"There," he said, he head nodded towards a small tree in the ground.

Abby was confused at the significance of a small tree at first, that was until she realized it wasn't just any tree.   
"The Eden Tree," she exclaimed, "you planted it?" 

"Yeah, the day I took Rivo back to TonDC, I brought it with us"

She smiled at his action, looking to him as he continued to stare at the little, yet strong, tree. 

"Well," sighed Abby, "this ought to be a fine place to find some rest"

"Agreed," Marcus smiled, letting go of her neck and putting his arms out as he fell back into the snow. 

Abby laughed at he landed with a flop into the cold, snow falling onto his face as he tried his best to blow it off.   
"It's cozy down here," he said in sarcasm, "you should join me"

"I'm good, thanks," Abby smiled, leaning back against a tree. 

He laughed as he sat up, running his hand through his hair, "fine, be boring"

"No! If I laid next to you, you'd probably sneak some snow down my shirt or something!" 

He smirked, knowing it to be true.   
Marcus stood, planning to hop over next to Abby, but before he could move, a shocking pain in his throat caused him to fall to his knees, coughing violently as blood streaked the snow. 

"Marcus," Abby shouted.   
She was at his side in seconds, helping to hold him up.   
One hand lay against the snow, trying to keep his body upright as the other gripped his throat, his fingers clawing at the skin, leaving behind bloody scratches. 

"Marcus, stop," Abby yelled, grabbing his hand, preventing him from doing any more damage.   
He wanted to explain. Explain the burning in his throat, the extreme dizziness of his mind, the nauseating feeling that filled his chest, but he was at loss of words. More and more blood seeped from his mouth, dripping down his chin and falling into the snow beneath him. He couldn't stay up much longer, and soon found himself leaning into Abby, who tried her best to keep him straight.   
His skin was burning despite the cold, and sweat soon began to mix with blood. 

Abby's mind raced with millions of questions. What was happening? Was it from his wounds? Was he sick? Did he catch a disease? She'd seen these symptoms before, but where? She thought back to everything they had done that day. Where they went, what they touched, what they ate and drank. That was when it hit her. When she realized why he was sick and she wasn't. The only thing he drank that she didn't, was Neevanah's bottle.   
She remembered him defining the taste, 'there's lots of fruity things, and something else, but I can't place my finger on it.' Something else. 

Abby wrapped her arm around Marcus's back, holding him up as he continued to bleed from his mouth, his eyes beginning to droop closed.   
"Marcus," Abby demanded, trying to keep his head up,"Marcus, no. Marcus, you have to stay awake. What did the bottle taste like? Marcus, you have t-" before she could finish he stopped coughing, his body falling against hers, his breathing uneven. He was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soon, and again, thanks for reading, and feedback is always awesome! Adios


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby is forced into an u pleasant situation, as Marcus battles with his mind and past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! New angst! New Kabby!

Overmorrow Chapter 5

Minutes. Hours. Days. Abby sat alone, staring, watching the red snow. He hadn't moved, not an inch. Perhaps except for the slow breathing of his chest. Shallow. Weak.   
Over and over her mind repeated itself. Blood. Screaming. Silence. The howling of the winter driving her mind to insanity.  
"A cure?" She muttered to herself, "no, no it's winter. There is no cure for poison ivy in the winter"  
Over and over again, muttering to herself the same words, the same lines. It all started the moment he went limp, falling against her heavy and bloodied.   
She tried waking him up, tried clearing the blood from his throat. Nothing. The smell of the bottle gave her all the knowledge she needed to know that the ivy was to blame. Snuck secretly into the bottle, the berries masking its taste almost fully. Almost.   
Then came the seizing. As she was lost in thought, his violent shacking instantly tore her from the concentration she put herself in. It felt like hours before he finally calmed, his heart rate steadying, the blood and fluids seeping from his mouth slowly ceasing.   
Then, there was nothing. He didn't move, didn't speak. He just lay there, cold and distant. Sometimes his fever would spike, even melting some of the snow that surrounded him. Then, it would lower, returning to his normal temperature.   
All whilst Abby sat, and watched. There was nothing she could do, nothing to bring him from the coma he was trapped in. Perhaps except to wait, but for how long? There were only so many rations, only so many days she could go without another storm.   
She could run to get help, but what if he awoken? What if the wolves got to him? What if he began to seize again and she wasn't there to help?   
But, what if he didn't drink the mixture? What if they never went on their journey to Polis? What if he never kissed her in the meeting room? What if she didn't push that kiss to evolve into something else entirely?

There were so many 'what ifs' so many 'if only i'd done this.' But what did they mean? She couldn't blind herself like that. Couldn't think, 'if only I had ignored his ask to stop' or 'if only I had drunk the mixture' because what did they matter? What happened, happened, and there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say or hope or beg for to change. He was gone. And she, was left alone, with nothing but her thoughts, and steaks of bloody snow ahead of her. 

It had only been a day, two days. She didn't really know, didn't really remember. Everything was so blurred, so mixed. She barely even remembered what happened until it would suddenly sink in again and the thoughts would come ripping through her head again. She was so out of it, she barely even realized she had begun to stand. Her legs shook from the cold, her brow sweaty from her insanity. Taking a few steps towards his body she stumbled forward, catching herself in the brisk snow. Quiet sobs echoed through her body.   
Why? Why was it her? Why was it them? They tried to save everyone. They tried to get out alive. But that was just it, they tried. 

Abby felt the warm tears drip from her skin, the emotions that had built up in her chest. All of her thoughts she had held in, all of the ideas, the plans, the sanity, it all came back to her with each drop that fell to the snow. She had to do something, and she had to do it now. In an instant she was up, walking past his figure, past the tree, past the memories that had haunted her for days. Then she ran. She was never much of a runner, had always hated it. But now, now she was in a full on sprint. She knew where they were, knew the land and the terrain. Her feet flew her like wings. Her train of thought was set back on its rails and her determination kicked it. They were going to survive this. Together. But they needed help, and they needed it now. 

§₩§

The first thing Marcus noticed was the taste. It was vile and bitter, seeping up his throat as it filled his mouth. He knew already that the strange feeling around his lips was just the crimson escaping its confines of his body.   
The second thing he noticed was the sound. Silence. There were no singing birds, no howling of the frozen wind as it ripped at his flesh, no feet crunching in the fresh snow. There was nothing. Not even a second heart beat. That was when he opened his eyes. He remembered what happened, he remembered Abby as she pleaded for him to stay awake, and he tried. He tried so hard, but what could he do? The pain in his throat, the nausea and dizziness that filled his head, it was just so much.

He used his elbow for support as he slowly sat himself up, his back against the tree as he clutched the fabric of his clothes. He searched his surroundings carefully. Dawn was quickly approaching, a light snowfall beginning to stop again. However, he could still make out the prints, the red streaks, the tree. He saw where she dragged him from his pool of blood, saw where she sat unmoving against the tree across from him, saw where she seeped her silent tears, and then took off running. Running? Where?   
He had so many questions, so many things he had to tell her. That he was ok, that she wasn't alone anymore. 

He used the bark of the tree to help stand, clawing at the slick ridges, hoisting himself to the air. Upon his first attempt to stand, his knee immediately buckled from under him, his body falling onto the weight of his knees. He gasped as he suddenly fell to the ground, anger coursing through his veins. He tried again. Carefully, he grasped the edges of the bark, using his leg to help push him.   
As he caught his bearings, the snow picking up around him, he caught sight of the tree. 

It was so small and frail, its green leaves the only pinch of color in the dead and blank world. But its size did not measure its strength. For such a small thing to make it through such a harsh winter, for a moment, Marcus Kane found himself in belief of miracles and magic, but he quickly put down the possibility, leaving it behind for the children to believe. But that didn't mean he had lost hope in it.   
"Please," he whispered, his eyes saddened and desolate as they became transfixed on the green leaves, "please... Help us," he begged.

For a few more moments he looked to the tree, all of his thoughts on Abby and his mother, but those thoughts are what pushed him to action. He noticed Abby pouch just across from him. He hobbled over, using every tree and boulder as his support. Taking her belongings, he strapped them to his back, and turned to follow her steps.   
The snow was falling quicker, the light of day become dimmer. He had to move fast, or he would loose his trail.   
Of course he knew his location, but with such small knowledge into the context of her actions, and the quick storm approaching, she could be headed towards camp, or towards nowhere. 

He tried his best to stay exactly on her trail, some of the snow being already cleared, but found it difficult to walk with nothing to hold onto. He stumbled a few times, but always managed to catch himself on the edge of a tree. His throat began to burn again, like a fire was lit in his chest as the ashes and heat travelled up his mouth, like a chimney in a fireplace.   
"Damn you, Neevanah," he spat, more blood seeping its way through his lips. He leaned his stomach against the trunk of a tree, holding on tightly as he felt his knee ready to give away. Nausea and dizziness overcame him again. He couldn't hold back the dry heave, but found nothing but blood exiting his system. He stood like that in the frigid wind and ice for quiet awhile, trying as hard as he could to hold onto the little thoughts that kept him alive. Trying as hard as he could to not let the sickness overcome him. For all he's been through, for all they've been through, him and Abby together, this was just a bump in the road. 

After awhile, he finally found the strength to fully stand, his fingers loosing their grip on the wood, but not letting go. The sick feeling in his body began to reside, but the feeling of heat and needles in the throat still lingered. He tried his best to ignore it, to focus on perhaps the cold on his skin, or the wind in his hair, or the small, warm tears that began to cloud his eyes. He winced as he pushed himself from the tree and kept going, looking ahead as he planned out his path according to the ways the trees grew and rocks lay. 

He thought himself crazy. He didn't even know when she left, where she went, if she was coming back. He supposed he had just never put to much thought into it. What was he doing? Trudging through the forest, a missing leg, infected neck, and poisoned body. And who knows, he could be in search of one who is already dead. He shook his head. He couldn't think like that. He had to push all of those thoughts away. So far down that he won't remember be ever thought them. He had to have hope. For Abby, he had to have hope. 

The snow thickened as the minutes passed. Or was it hours? Or days? Marcus didn't know, he had lost track of time. He had lost all feeling in his fingers. His skin stung with the wind. His throat burned with the fire. He didn't know how much farther he could go. The wind had picked up, and the snow fell so fast and harsh he could barely see a foot in front of his face.  
The wind took his breath away, and as he closed his eyes to shield them from the storm be found himself stumbling to the ground, his whole body engulfed in the snow. It chilled his hands, brought numbness to his skin as he tried to stand.   
He couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find his foot from under him. Couldn't find the control he needed to push himself forward.   
He tried crawling, the white powder collapsing under his weight. He could barely see her trail now. He could barely see anything.   
A sudden urge to cough sent more blood into the snow, leaving its mark for the wolves to catch wind of. He clawed at his throat, unable to control the urge any longer. Violent streaks were torn in his flesh, more blood seeping down his neck.   
He screamed into the cold. He wanted to regain control, to keep going. But everything seemed to be catching up to him now.   
After awhile the world went silent. He couldn't hear his own screams, or the wind across the barren timbers. He felt almost peaceful. He slumped onto his back, a few weak coughs pushing blood from his mouth, but he didn't feel it. It was one of the few times in all his life he felt truly happy. His mother's priestess ceremony. Abby laying next to him in their cot, humming quietly to him her favorite tune. The moment death came to whisper in his ear. He knew it was selfish of him, but how he had yearned for this for so long.   
He was ready. Ready to close his eyes. For all the pain to just simply disappear. But then he saw it. In the distance, faded by the snow. A light. 

 

It was bright, almost too bright. There were voices, shouting, whispers. He tried moving, his eyes staring up into the void. It was cold, he felt so distant. Like he was on the ark. Alone, dead inside. But that light, he didn't know if it was real or his imagination. Was he hearing his past, hearing the voices of all those people he murdered? It wasn't exactly what he expected Hell to be like. Or at least he thought it was Hell until he finally felt something. Warmth, on his shoulder. A hand placed gently behind the crook of his neck. His back being lifted from the bitter snow. 

The light was brighter than ever now. Directed right into his eyes, he finally found the ability to follow it, trace it, watch as it travelled back and forth between his vision. It was quiet pretty, almost mesmerizing. An addictive allure that drew in his mind. He didn't know where he was, didn't know what to think, didn't know who was touching him or if he would ever snap from the daze he was trapped in. The only thing he knew was that he was alive, and he wasn't alone. 

He wasn't sure how long it had been. How long he had sat staring into nothing. But as things changed around him, the warmth of his body, the feeling of his skin, the burn in his throat, he only ever saw the light. He felt his eyes grow heavy, but never close. He felt them sting, but never blinked to wash away the tears. Was he just dreaming? Was he still drunk In TonDC? Had he gone insane? Small, unanswered thoughts kept bouncing around his head. So many questions that had gone unanswered, yet so many voices around him that were capable of answering. If only he could speak.   
The light began to duplicate. There were more, brighter, yet blurred. As time went on, he found himself almost bored, questioning the strange sensations he felt but could not observe. There were small pricks on his neck, an odd warmth to his leg, some type of liquid forced down his throat, yet his eyes continued to blur the world around him.   
That was until his lips became warm, a light pressure pushing against the chapped skin. They were soft, small. He recognized them, he knew the all too familiar touch. He'd had many nights to study them, to lay in bed next to their owner, stroking her hair and kissing her neck. Then, he'd move his mouth to hers and the world would melt away before him. She pulled away. There was a weight on his chest. But it was not heavy from grief or worry, no. It was her, her head buried in his shirt. He recognized the quiet sobs that echoed through his ears, the first thing he'd heard in what felt like eternity. The muffled cries and pleads. He could have sworn he had heard his name. He smelt a sweet aroma travel through his nose. Like lavender and pine, comforting and light. He knew that smell, it was his favorite. He knew all of this mysterious women, but then again, he didn't need his eyes to know exactly who it was. Because she had made that quiet clear the moment he saw the light that saved him from loosing her. The moment she risked everything to save him. The moment she wrapped her arms around him, refusing to leave him behind. The moment her lips came to his, he knew, it was Abby.  
The light began to darken then, he felt his body loose all consciousness, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Then he felt nothing, not even the hands that clung to his shirt, or the lips that touched his. 

§₩§

Marcus was used to the nightmares. Never a surprise when he felt the darkness surround him. He remembered every one of them too. Every scream, every death, every life that ended because of him. All the pain that would radiate through his bones. It didn't phase him anymore, it was just another dream.   
that's one of the many reasons he wasn't surprised to feel the cold of the metal beneath his feet, the machine hum piercing his ears, the stuffy air filling his lungs.   
He opened his eyes, almost jumping at the mirrors that surrounded him. His face was thirty years younger, his sixteen year old self being reflected back to him. He rubbed his hands across his smooth skin, across his lip and bridge of his eyes where his scars were supposed to be. Looking down he smiled at the recovery of his leg, stretched and healthy. Why was he here? What was different about this dream? Was it a dream? Or was it real, was his past coming back to haunt his trapped soul? He was always able to tell a difference between his dreams and reality. Never were they so vivid they drive him insane. Were they? 

A sudden clink of metal pulled Marcus from his thoughts. He immediate jumped around. Nothing. Just another mirror. Again, he heard the clink, confusion coursing through his mind, curiosity pushing his eyes to scan the room. He heard it over and over, it filled his ears, driving him mad. Where was it? Was it him? He looked into the mirror, inspecting everything. His legs, his arms, his chest. Still, the noise plagued the room. He was about to give up when he looked down. A puddle of blood had pooled on the floor, his hand coated it crimson, a sharp metal piece red in his fingers. He dropped it in shock, hearing as it fell to the floor with a thud. He stepped back, jumping as his fingers tapped the mirror, a crack emitted from the touch. 

His curiosity grew, reaching out his hand, he lightly tapped the surface. Each feathery touch breaking the surface more and more. He couldn't stop, he found himself moving without thought. Then it shattered. Glass scrapped his skin, yet drew no blood. The glass roared like rushing water. As it exploded towards him he didn't move, his expression never changing. He just watched.   
As the chaos cleared around him he found himself alone once more, the room he was once standing in completely turned to nothing, as if it had never existed, not that it ever did. 

He didn't ask questions, he'd gotten so used to them never being answered. So, he went wherever the dream took him, even if that meant going to the place he'd never imagined would resurface.   
He was pulled violently from his thoughts as a bottle came flying towards his head. He ducked just in time for it to shatter against the wall behind him, glass falling onto the floor. He turned to watch its owner, shuddering a cold breath at the sight of him. His father may have been handsome, but he was devilish none the less. His black hair and dark skin, the blood that was sprayed across his face. His wife bleeding out at his feet. 

"Mom," Marcus gasped, trying to move to her side. However, he found his shoes stuck to the floor. He grunted, trying to pull his feet from the cold metal. "Mom, m-mom," he repeated, falling into a state of panic. He couldn't go through this again, not even in a dream. Maybe he could change it? No, his father would be floated even if he didn't kill him himself. Or they could both be spared? He could save his mother, a few stitches and she would be ok. A talk with his father, take away the alcohol. Would it work? Could it work?   
All these thoughts came passing through his mind in a matter of seconds. Every possibility, every outcome, was questioned. But it all bottomed down to one question, one truth. Did he deserve it? Did his father deserve to live? After all he'd done to them, after all the destruction he had caused as he rose to a stare of blissful rapture, not a care about the consequences.   
Marcus looked down to his hand, still coated in blood, his fathers blood, yet there was no scar across his neck.   
His breathing grew heavy, there was a feeling in his gut that he couldn't explain. He could feel it grow through him, pushing him harder and harder. It was an addictive urge, a rush of anger. It was a feeling of murder. He'd never felt such a strong pulse beat in him, but it was unstoppable. 

He leaped forwards, taking a piece of metal from the table he jumped for his fathers neck, pushing him against the wall. It was quick, but slow. Marcus pushed his father head down towards the floor, the knife slicing his throat. Blood coated his hand, dripped down both their shirts. He watched as he held him up, seeing him chocking on his own blood, gasping for air. Then it was over. His mother screams mixed with the sound of clashing metal, feet pounding into the room. 

His vision was replaced with darkness. He saw nothing, felt nothing. His mother's scream echoed around him until it finally faded to the sound of silence. He tried waking up, tried opening his eyes, but it was no use. He was in to deep, there was no escape. He wanted to scream, scream so loud the whole world could hear him. He opened him mouth, tried to shout. There was nothing but a hollow silence that haunted him, that drove him to insanity.  
He wanted to scream even louder when he saw it, saw the light. Not this again, not this silence, not this confusion.   
"Stop," he screamed, "please, no-no not again. I-I have to wake up," he pleaded. It had to end, he had to wake up. He tried so hard to open his eyes, to end the nightmare. He soon thought it may never end, he was stuck in the Hell he had created in his mind.   
"Abby," he screamed, searching for the one thing that could end the chaos, "Abby"  
He finally felt it. Felt the hand on his cheek, fingers through his hair, a voice whispering in his ear. The light was gone now, he could hear soft whispers in the distance. It was as if the whole world has stopped spinning the moment his eyes opened to meet hers. 

§₩§

Abby jumped back, her hands instinctually grabbing Marcus's shoulders as he sat up. His skin was coated in sweat, his eyes wide and scared as they looked back into hers. She froze for only a second, studying his features before she sprung into action, wiping the few strands of hair that lay in front of his eyes. Taking his cheeks in her hands, she tried to shake him from the horror his mind was locked away in. His breathing was heavy, and as he finally broke free of the chains that were bound to his imagination, he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her.   
"Abby," he whispered in relief, stroking her soft hair, just to be sure she was real. He savored the lavender and pine that filled his nose. He didn't realize it at the time, but as he sat, holing her in his arms, he called her name. Over and over he whispered the words, rolling them from his tongue.   
"Abby, Abby, Abby," he repeated again and again and again.   
She ran her fingers through his hair, squeezing him tight, protecting him from the ghosts. Little did he know, he was doing the same for her.   
"Sh," she said calmingly into his ear, rocking him gently back and fourth. 

He pulled back, resting his forehead on hers.   
"You're ok," he said, almost questioningly, a small smile of relief on his face. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok," she smiled back, looking into his warm eyes, basking in the comfort. 

Marcus glanced around, taking in the all to familiar look of the medical tent. He held his breath before sighing in relief. They were safe, they were home. He looked back to her, moving his mouth to peck hers lightly. 

"What happened?" He asked

She laughed,"what's the last thing you remember?"

He thought for a few moments, "I... I remember showing you the tree... Then... I...I don't want to talk about the rest"

"So," she almost whispered, "you remember the coughing fit and blood?"

"What?" He asked surprised, "what happened?"

She smirked, "you collapsed after coughing up blood. Turns out your drink had some poison ivy disguised in it. Not enough to kill you, of course, but you were in a coma for a few days, I ran to get help, it looked like you crawled to meet us halfway though," she added, "I wouldn't be surprised if you hallucinated either"

He chuckled, but kept quiet.   
"How's your stomach?" He asked, rubbing his hand lightly across her wound. 

"It's fine, I got some medication on it just a little bit ago, we haven't been here all but an hour or so, I'm sure Bellamy would like to have some words with you, I didn't go into any details," she chuckled, "I didn't even tell them we were hurt other than you were unconscious"

He laughed, "that'll be fun... I have a feeling you are going to ask me to sleep, but, Abby, in all due respect, I can't"

"Actually," she said, "I think you're due for some new stitches on your leg and neck" 

He smiled in relief, "on second thought, I'm feeling sleepy," he joked.

Abby laughed, pulling him into another tight embrace as she kissed his lips, "I'm glad you're ok," she said. 

Marcus grinned, "you too"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONCE AGAIN, THANKS SOOOOO MUCH FOR READING FIVE WHOLE CHAPTERS OF THIS CRAP I HAVE THROWN TOGETHER FOR MY OWN AMUSEMENT AND LIKING, IT ACTUALLY MEANS ALOT.   
> Anyway, now that I'm done screaming, feedback is helpful, and the next chapter will be here soon...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby tries to fall back into her normal routine, and helps Marcus with problems of his own

Overmorrow Chapter 6 

The next few days were slow for Abby, tiring even. She didn't like leaving Marcus's side as he lay bed ridden, but there were so many people she had to speak with, so many 'meetings' she had to attend. Bellamy and Lincoln asking nonstop about how they'd managed to survive. It was a lot to take in, and Abby soon found herself overwhelmed, having to hide herself away in medical just for a few minutes to catch her breath. She was relieved to find Marcus asleep, his deep breaths calm and steady. Pulling up a chair, she sat beside him, gently pulling away the bandage from his neck to check on the healing. It was badly bruised, and she found herself carefully running her fingers across the stitches, feeling every bump and rut. His bleeding stopped, which was good, and his bandage didn't need changed. She sighed and wrapped it again, careful to not wake him. 

Grabbing his hand and gently stroking the callused palm, she counted the lines that ran across his skin. She studied his prints and the way his fingers rested. She had never realized how big they were, how his one hand was as big as both of hers combined. They were strong and powerful even when still and relaxed. She didn't want to let go, didn't want to leave. She felt so warm, so content and safe, just by holding his hand. So much had happened in so little time. She'd spoken to so many people, having to explain story after story, nightmare after nightmare. She may be chancellor, may have to be 'strong' for her people, but she was done. If she had to answer one more question or concern, have to keep explaining or remembering, she was going to run away, dragging Marcus in her wake to spare him the horror of reliving the terror again. 

She jumped when she felt his hand suddenly tighten around hers. Her eyes darted up to his, which were still closed, his face continuing to stay solemn and relaxed. She tried to loosen his grip, but it was of no use. A low hum began filling her ears, and it wasn't long before she realized it was coming from his throat. She knew then it was the nightmares. Always the nightmares. They plagued her mind too. Every night she went to sleep, she knew she'd awaken dripping with sweat, noise and chaos still ringing in her ears. Never would she wish it on her worst of enemies to have to remember. To have to relive the horror every night. She immediately nudged his ribcage, trying to wake him. 

"Marcus," she said, squeezing his hand back and tugging on his arm. He awakened with a quiet moan. His body shacking with a light sweat covering his brow. He sat up spooked, looking around as if he didn't know where he were.  
Upon seeing Abby, his face relaxed, and breathing lessened. It seemed she had helped him remember where he was, as all the memories of them being home came filling his thoughts.  
"Sorry," he apologized, his face close to hers. 

"It's ok," Abby responded quietly, as if she wanted no one else to hear what she had to say, "I came in to escape everything, found you having a bad dream, and I didn't want you screaming so loud others come in here and destroyed our safe haven"

Marcus smiled,"I'm glad you chose me as your safe haven"

"Don't get too full of yourself," Abby joked, making his smile widen. She was glad he could still smile. To still be able to find humor when his life was almost brutally taken from him more than once, only a few days before. Perhaps it was all an act, perhaps it wasn't. But for now, he seemed normal, and that was all she needed to know. 

Marcus winced as he sat up even more, moving his legs to the side so his feet lay flat on the cold floor. Taking hold of the pole to his right, he used it to help him stand. Abby jumped to her feet as well, grabbing his arm for support. 

"It's ok, Abs," he assured her once he was full standing, his weight resting on the beam, "there's plenty of things around to help me walk"

She watched him quietly as he caught his bearings,"depends on where you're walking to, there aren't many places for you to go without leaving medical, and that isn't happening"

He chuckled at her sense of security over him, "I'm going pee, not running away... Am I allowed to do that?"

"No, you have to hold it," she said sternly, a small grin eventually spreading across her face as he ignored her comment, a devilish smile across his face as he limped to his destination. 

Abby was prepared to leave, figuring she should probably get back into the mess she had to sort out. However, there was a nagging In her stomach that stopped her. What if he fell trying to get back? How would he get help? Could he stand on his own? She stayed out of worry. He was back in less than a minute, getting around fine as he took a hold of anything that could support his weight. Abby thought he was fine until his hand slipped, and his leg gave out from under him. His knees hit the floor hard, his hand still outstretched over his head, having a firm grip on the metal pole that he had used to keep him up. 

Abby immediately sprung into action, she was at his side in seconds.  
"It's ok, I got you," she assured him, her arms coming under his as she helped lift up his weight. He had a good hold on the pole still, and with his one good leg, arm strength, and Abby's help, he was easily able to stand.  
"I'll help you back," Abby said calmly, a sweet tone in her voice, almost patronizing. 

Marcus cursed himself. He couldn't even walk on his own without falling to his knees.  
'What's happened to me?' He thought, finally finding his seat on his dreaded bed. He'd been stuck in it so long, laying alone for hours. He'd rather be anywhere but there. 

Abby grabbed his shoulders, bending down to look into his eyes, "new rule, no getting up and walking unless either me or Jackson are in here, or it's an absolute emergency, got it?"

He sighed. Everything was so restricted. Everything he did, he had to be waited on, and depend on people to help him through it. That was what was killing him. So, he didn't say a word, just nodded in understanding.

Abby sighed, standing up and heading towards the door, "get some rest, I need to check on a few things, it shouldn't take long. I'll be back in half an hour" 

Before he had a chance to speak, she was gone. Abby didn't mean to leave so suddenly, but it was too hard to watch. Hard to see him suffer. She could feel his pain, feel the hurt radiating from his skin. Having to rely on others was not in his best interest, and the reality of it becoming true was slowly eating away at him. She knew there was something else, she was beginning to see it in his eyes, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.  
All these thoughts ran through her mind as she trudged through camp, in search of the names written on her mental list. 

She never knew so much could happen in such a small time she was gone. Problem after problem that apparently only she could fix. Conversation after conversation it was the same thing. There was a problem, nobody could be big enough to settle it, and she was the breaking vote. She was so swept up in the constant routine, Raven and Bellamy had to pull her to the side just to get some real words out of her.  
They could see in her eyes the confusion. As if a switch had turned in her body, and suddenly all of her memories were washed away with the slow melting snow. She was barely even able to register who dragged her away, and became at a loss of words as she stared longingly into her reflection as it stared back through the shattered glass that leaned against cold metal. 

"Abby," Raven asked worried, "are you ok?"

She didn't seem to be paying much attention. Instead she kept eyeing herself, deep in concentration. A few moments went by before she finally registered the words spoken to her, and snapped from her mesmerized gaze.  
"I-I'm fine," she swallowed, "just... So overwhelmed. I've handled far more than this I just-I... Have so many other things on my mind. And those worries mixed with problems emerging here, and Marcus laying in medical alone, I am just a little hot wired"

Bellamy looked to her with understanding, "it's ok, we'll take care of the rest, you go and keep Kane company" 

Abby sighed, peering behind her to the medical tent. Dawn was upon them, and the warm light from inside made the snow around the door gleam like the stars. She thought for a few moments. He had not eaten all day, and was most likely sick of sitting alone. She trusted Bellamy to pull through with her duties, so what was holding her back? The reason was unknown, but the feeling inside her was undeniable. She finally turned back to the both of them, still nervous about her decision.  
"Alright, thank you, both of you. The only section I've yet to check is farming, which shouldn't be anything to big to handle"

"Alright," Bellamy nodded, beginning to turn away with Raven, "send Kane our regards"

Abby smiled as an understanding gesture, watching as they disappeared into the crowd. Once they were out of sight, she immediately turned away towards the ark. Marcus was starving himself, and she was determined to put an end to it. Taking both their rations of beef broth and now stale bread, awaiting her near the door, she walked as fast as she could without causing suspicion towards medical. Countless times she had been stopped by everyone, questioning both their health. She'd kept secret the bullet wound in her stomach, not to mention her failed pregnancy, as well as the bite in Marcus's neck, and the absence of his leg. Really, almost everyone had figured they'd been lost in the cold, oblivious to the real danger they had experienced. It wasn't a secret, but keeping it to themselves and their closest friends as long as possible was in her best interest. She didn't want to many visitors running in and out of medical. Both of them were still vaguely unstable, and she feared another breakdown was bound to happen with so many memories swarming their brains. 

Abby was relieved, taking a few calming breaths as she tightened down the flap to the medical tent, trapping the warmth inside. Marcus looked up to her from his bunk, his back leaning against the cold metal as his legs dangled below him. Abby laughed when she noticed he was only twiddling with his thumbs by himself. 

"You must be pretty bored," she chuckled, sitting beside him on his cot as she handed him his food. 

"Very bored," he smiled, staring at the brown liquid that rolled in the bowl before him, the old bread crumbling in his hand, "thank you for the kind gesture, Abby, but I am not hungry" 

She almost dropped her meal,"Marcus," she growled, "you haven't eaten in three days. You are going to starve"

He shrugged, staring his reflection in the thick broth, "I'm fine, just not hungry"

Abby didn't know why she was so furious, but the anger arising in her was making her blood boil, "Marcus fucking Kane," she yelled, standing from her seat as her soup splattered across the floor, "you are going to eat, or I will tie you down and force feed you myself"

He could feel the rage radiating from her skin. He didn't intend on irritating her, but his lack of appetite was hard to overcome, and now that she was on the verge of snapping his neck, he didn't know what to say to refuse.  
He began speaking before he even realized what he was saying, "Abby, I-I'm just not hungry. I know you're angry, but I can't eat. Give me one more day, and I promise, tomorrow I'll eat my supper"  
He tried his hardest to stay calm and quiet, working to make his words seem less of a question, and more of a kind statement. 

Abby stared him in the eyes for ages, studying his every feature, every gleam that shone in his eyes, every little scar that marked his face. She took note of the deep gulp that rippled through his neck. She could see the relief carry through his expression when she sighed and dropped her arms that were once folded across her chest.  
"Fine," she said, looking down to the mess at her feet, "if you don't eat tomorrow, I will force it into you, ok?"

He laughed, "ok"

Abby took a few rags from a nearby table and began to soak up her mess, the small ration of food sloshing around on the ground. 

"You can have mine," Marcus said, taking the dirty rags from her and trading his broth and bread. 

"Thanks," she muttered, slouching by him again. 

They sat in silence as she filled her stomach, the noise and chatter from outside slowly dying down as the dusk progressed to complete darkness. Neither of them had anything to say really, at least not then. It wasn't until Abby was finished with her meal did she break the silence that lingered over their shoulders. 

"Sorry I yelled at you," she said, taking his hand and retracing his palm again. It was becoming almost an addiction. 

"That's ok," he said, "I am kind of being ridiculous"

Abby chuckled, "at least you admit it"

"I'm sorry, ok? I just, am a little paranoid is all, I promise tomorrow I'll eat"  
He didn't know if he was telling the truth or not. Was he paranoid? Or was he simply at a loss of appetite? Perhaps it was another thing entirely. He didn't know. He had been lying to himself for so long, he was beginning to not be able to tell the difference between what was real and what he wanted to believe. What he wanted Abby to believe. 

"I trust you," she said, continuing to fiddle with his large hand, "sorry," she finally said, noticing him staring at her as she played with his fingers, "I was doing it as you slept and it's a habit now"

He laughed,"well it isn't a hard one to break," he smiled, intertwining their fingers together, squeezing hers tightly. 

They sat together for hours, talking and laughing, not once coming on the subject of their past adventure and their losses. It was nice. For a few moments, they had both forgotten. Forgotten everything that happened, what they did to get where they were. By the end of the night, as Abby lay next to him, fiddling with his calluses palm, his spirit seemed to have lifted only a little, until a sharp pain in his leg seemed to bring all the memories crashing back down on him again. 

 

She awoke to the sound of his heart beating fast, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly, his breathing heavy and clothes wet from sweat. As his breathing continued, she could hear his faint whimpering emerging from his throat. As if he were crying to himself. She didn't wish to admit it, but she was rather thankful for his sudden awakening, it tore her from her own nightmare she was preparing to awaken from, just as he had.  
As she sat up next to him, grabbing his shoulders and shacking him lightly from his fearful stare, Marcus's shacking slowly began to reside, his body becoming still and breathing normal as he rested his head on her shoulder. 

"Sorry," Marcus breathed out of breath, his eyes closing as he tried to calm himself. 

"It's ok," she assured him, "it was only a dream, and I was having one too. They will pass"

He laughed quietly, "they will pass? When will they pass? Tomorrow? Next week? Next year? Who knows, maybe they'll never pass a-"

"Marcus," Abby snapped, forcing him to lift his head from her shoulder as she took hold of his peppered cheeks, turning his face towards hers, "you can't think like that," she whispered calmly, yet with a demanding tone in her voice,"that will only make it worse. This will end, I promise"

He could only stare into her eyes, no words seem to escape his mouth, nothing coming to his mind. Maybe she was right, maybe she wasn't. But there was so much to remember, so much that came to his mind every night that he just wanted to forget. He didn't know what to believe anymore. Perhaps he could convince himself it never happened, to pretend everything was ok. That wouldn't work. Everyday he would look into the mirror, see the scar that reached above his shirt collar, look down to his legs and realize he didn't get to his destination on his own. That there was a man waiting outside his door to help bring him outside since he couldn't do it on his own. 

"Perhaps it will end," he replied, peering down to the hands that rested in his lap,"perhaps it won't. Guess we'll just have to see"

Abby didn't comment, just watched him fiddle with his thumbs. After a few moments she looked behind him and out the small opening in the door flap, the sun clearly beginning to rise as the sky became brighter. She sighed, her eyes were still heavy and she felt as if she was awake all night. However, she couldn't leave Bellamy to her job again, not now. He had proven to be good help, but Abby refused to take a break from her job only because she was 'tired.' She could power through it, she knew she could. 

She nudged her forehead onto his, kissing his lips softly, "I have to go," she said, her lips pulling away, but their heads remaining together, "I don't doubt Jackson should be in here most of the day. Maybe except tonight, he's scheduled to help in the cafeteria"  
She slowly pulled away, scooting around him as her feet lay flat on the cold metal floor. She could feel Marcus turn next to her in the same position. 

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked, grabbing his arm to stop him from standing 

"I'm a little over-due for a shower," he shrugged, resting his bad leg across his knee, inspecting the clean bandage. 

It never occurred to Abby he'd be needing a shower. She was prepared to argue, that was until she noticed the grease in his hair. It was then she realized he was miserable,"Let me help you," Abby told him, standing up to take his hands. 

He sighed, resting his leg down again, "It's ok, Abby, I can stand now," he assured her, pushing himself up before she had a chance to say no. 

She knew he could stand well, but walking was another matter entirely. After one fall, she was paranoid, especially when the floor was slippery wet. Abby was prepared to do whatever it took to make sure he didn't fall again, even if that meant strapping him to his cot and pouring buckets of water across him. 

"I know you can stand, but you can't walk, and the floor of the shower is slick," she pleaded with him,"Plus, there's no sturdy wall to hold onto. Please, Marcus, I want to help you"

He stared her in the eyes long and hard. He was stubborn, but so was she. If she wanted to help him, if she wanted to take her time out of her day to help him with a simple task such as taking a shower, he knew from experience there was absolutely no way of talking her out of it.  
The moment he sighed and clenched his jaw, Abby knew she'd won, and smirked as her sign of victory. 

"Thank you," she said, wrapping her arm around his ribs and pulling his arm across her far shoulder, preparing him for the short walk across medical. In the large back room where medical supplies was stored, Raven and a few engineers had managed to hook up a shower, perfect for any injured man or woman to incapable of trudging outside and through the ark, much like Marcus.  
They were both used to the walking routine, and made it into the back room quickly, Abby closing the door behind them, to allow privacy if Jackson or another patient were to walk into the tent.  
Setting him down onto a bench towards the far wall, Abby turned her back and headed towards the shower, the bathing area hidden by an old, white tarp. 

"I'll get the water as warm as I can, you start getting undressed, just don't stand, please"

"I won't," he replied, pulling his shirt up and over his head. It felt good to finally air himself out, to be rid of the shirt that was so coated in sweat and grime that it stuck to his skin. He hadn't worn his boot in awhile, really, he wasn't even sure where it was. One less thing to pull off, he figured. Next were his pants and undergarments. The black color hid the dirt rather well, except for the grime that had become caked onto his knees. He was amazed there weren't any holes, but became even more surprised at the sight of the scrapes and bruises that littered his sore skin. He didn't linger on them for too long, with nothing to make them heal faster, he was just going to have to live with it. He waited patiently as Abby rummaged through the nearby closets, collecting the cleanest towels and clothes. She had brought in an extra shirt a few days before, the only extra he had. Pants were a little more difficult, but eventually she was able to find a pair of old guard pants similar to his own. 

As Abby finally finished preparing, setting the materials down next to Marcus, she became worried about the way he shook.  
"Marcus? Are you ok?" She asked, bending down to grab his shoulders, his skin soft, but cold. 

"I'm fine," he responded,"just a little freezing"

"No kidding," Abby agreed, helping him stand before wrapping her arm around his naked torso, leading him towards the shower. Although the ark had running water, and a good reservoir from the stream and creek nearby, hot water was nonexistent. And even when it had a warm feel to it, showering quickly was a priority to everyone in order to keep warm through the cold winter days. 

Marcus jumped as the cold water hit his skin, the bandages around his neck and leg soaking up some of the chilly liquid. Abby held onto his arm from outside the curtain as he wet his hair and the rest of his body. He didn't know whether he enjoyed it or hated it. Each drop that cleaned him brought relief to his aching muscles, he hadn't felt so fresh and clean in a long time. But how disgusted he was at himself. Having need help to shower? To be held up as he stood exposed, barely able to stay standing as he lifts his free arm to message his scalp. Parts of Abby's clothes had become soaked as she reached in to hook her arm with his. 

"This isn't going to work," she said, lightly pulling him from under the water.  
He didn't say anything as she helped pull his wet body to the bench again, sitting him down, that was until she pulled off her shirt, revealing her light skin. 

"Abby, you don't have t-" she cut him off

"You're never going to get clean if we have you shower like that," she said, unhooking her bra, then bending down to rid of her pants and undergarments.  
"Ok, let's try this again," she walked towards Marcus, helping him up once more. His frozen skin was like needles against her warm body heat, causing her skin to stick up.  
Together they made it to the shower once more, this time Abby joining him under the faucet. 

"Try to balance as good as possible, I'm here if you get too wobbly, just let me know," Abby told him as she let go of his shoulder. Moving behind him, she ran her fingers across his rib cage to his back, afraid to even lift a finger from him in fear of his body crumbling to the ground. 

Her light touch teased his skin, sending a chill that ran all the way up his spine, until they left his body. After a few moments of standing on his own, she felt her hands run onto his skin again, messaging the makeshift soap into his shoulders and back. His muscles were tense, and as she worked even harder into him, he could feel the relief traveling through him. She ran her hands into his thick hair, soaping each strand of his dark locks until it became lathered. She had done the same thing to his chest and stomach, cleaning his skin until he felt good. 

"I'm sorry, Abs," he said deeply and quietly as he wrapped her in a towel much like his own. 

She didn't respond, just helped him dress, the cold beads still dripping down his skin and pooling onto the floor as he pulled his shirt over his head. Sitting on the bench, he took care of his pants as Abby dressed her own body. She savored the feel of warmth as they coated her. As they both eventually became decent, Abby sat next to Marcus on the bench, his towel in hand as she dried his hair. 

She could tell he was about to say something, about to fight against her help, so she spoke up first.  
"Yes, I know you are capable of this, but I want to do this. I like the feel of your hair"

He smirked, running his own hand through his thick locks,"well, if you really want to, I can't necessarily stop you"

She kept running her fingers through his hair even after it was dry, not wanting to stop. She didn't know why she had suddenly become so obsessed with her touch on him, but there was a feeling In her she didn't know how to describe. She was just so happy they were alive, so happy that he was still there to be touched, that she couldn't help but take every opportunity to run her hands through his hair, or feel his callused palms, or bask in the feeling of his chest gently rising and falling under her weight. 

"Alright," Abby finally said, standing to bring him back to his cot, "you should get some more sleep"

He stood next to her as she opened the door, waiting as she wrapped her arms around him in position to walk.  
"I've slept for two days," he grunted, making his way with her through medical, "I'm sick of laying around and doing nothing"

"Marcus, you'll heal faster, and there's not much you can do for the camp," she fought as he sat down atop his old and torn blankets. By now, the sun had risen above the horizon, the day just getting started. Abby sighed, knowing she had to go, no matter how much she didn't want to.  
"Listen, don't get up unless someone is here to help you. I'll be back tonight with your supper," she sighed, seeing the annoyance and sadness in his eyes,"I know you hate this," she said taking his hand, "I hate it too, but things will get better, we'll make you a prosthetic, find jobs that don't put to much pressure onto your leg"

She could see right through his fake smile, "yea, ok," he said, watching as she turned away, "love you," he hollered to her as she opened the flap, the cold air filling the once warm medical tent. 

"I love you too," she said, and in moments, was gone. 

§₩§

Abby felt the day would never end. Every time she tried to make it back to medical, she would be stopped and asked to assist someone with something they could clearly do on their own. Scheduled meetings were one thing, but the disturbance she had faced every hour was getting out of hand. And she was going crazy.  
The camp received word in the early morning by Clarke in Polis. The decision to build their armies and march towards the City of Light was decided, and they would be called to send their men once the snow melts. Great. Fantastic. The day had just become so much better. They couldn't risk any more men, especially an army. But, being called by the leader of all the grounder armies was something she couldn't decline. Her mind had been set on the subject all day. And she had lots of thinking to do. By the end of the day, as the sun slowly melted below the horizon, she was in dire need of a drink. 

Filling her metal mug with as much moonshine as it could hold, she sat at a table and slowly sipped on the sweet alcohol, savoring its taste on her tongue. She tried processing everything, the decisions she had to make and the meetings she had to hold. It was all so much, the personal and the duties as chancellor. She sat in such deep concentration, she barely noticed Raven coming to sit across from her, until she had begun to talk. 

"Hey, you ok?" She asked, clearly able to see right through Abby's calm stare, and neatly pony tailed hair. 

She glanced up to Raven from her drink she had swirled in its cup, debating whether to fake a smile or tell the truth. Then it hit her that nothing gets past Raven. 

"I'm just... scared," she finally said,"the camp is so busy, we are at the brink of war, and... Marcus," she paused, "he isn't getting any better," she glanced back at the medical tent, her state full of sadness and worry. 

"Abby, the camp will do fine. You shouldn't be stressed, if you need help, or it becomes too overwhelming, just come get me and Bell, we can help"

Abby smiled, proud of Raven for volunteering her time, "thank you, I'll remember that," she glanced towards medical again. 

"What are we going to do about Polis?" Raven said after a few minutes of comfortable silence 

Abby sighed,"I'm not sure. I am planning on an emergency council meeting later this week," again, she looked to medical,"hopefully everyone can make it"

Raven thought for a few moments, not entirely sure how to respond,"we'll think of something"

Abby nodded, again glancing to medical, wondering if Marcus was ok. She hadn't had a chance to see him all day, and his refusal to eat worried her more and more. She began chugging her drink, wanting to get back to him as soon as possible. 

"Hey," Raven exclaimed, reaching across the table and grabbing Abby's wrist, lowering the cup from her mouth,"slow down there, what's the hurry?"

Abby became suddenly saddened,"I'm fine, I just want to get back to Marcus" 

Raven could see the tiredness in her eyes, all the worry and sadness preparing to spill from her mouth.  
"He'll be ok, Abby, I promise"

"I-Raven-he... He refuses to eat, every night he wakes up drenched in sweat, screaming from night terrors. He-he isn't himself, and I don't know what to do" 

Raven took a deep breath, thinking to herself as she glanced down at the brace that wrapped her leg.  
"Hey, I've been through this kind of thing," she assured Abby, looking her in the eyes, "it sucks, it really, really sucks. But he'll be ok. Kane, he's a guard, a soldier. He doesn't just wait for something to happen. He doesn't sit, and wait for a criminal to make a mistake. Instead, he goes after them. When you finally got to the ground, he didn't wait for the grounders to contact us, he left to contact them, by himself. Now he can't even stand on his own without somone to help him. He didn't just lose one foot, he lost his ability to act, which is in his eyes I guess, his "ability to be useful" to the people. I went through dark places as well. I thought it'd never be better. Turns out, I just had to make it better, and I did. But suppose his is a little different. Loosing a foot is the worst for him. For me, it'd be my hand. I don't know what I would do then. Perhaps I would just end it?"

Abby sat and thought over her words for a few moments, processing everything she had said. Perhaps she was right, he'd get over it eventually, he'd pull through. Then it hit her. "Loosing a foot is the worst for him... Perhaps I would just end it?" He wasn't eating. He wasn't sleeping. And when he finally did, he awoke to night terrors. He no longer winced at the pain of stitches. Was he becoming used to it? Or was he savoring the pain? She didn't linger long on the subject. Abby stood so fast her chair fell to the ground.  
"I have to go, I-I have to go," she panicked, running to medical. She prayed it wasn't too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFF HANGER MWUHAHAHAHA  
> Anyway.... Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up soon for those of you who keep checking in!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby finds Marcus in a vulnerable position

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, I had it all written, but hadn't the time to post, so I'll just leave it here

Overmorrow Chapter 7

He couldn't be dead. He promised, he promised her that everything would be ok, that he would stand by her until the end of their days together. Abby had never ran so fast in her life. She felt the wind run its cold fingers through each strand of her thick hair. The bright flood lights that surrounded their gates, peering down at them like eyes from the heavens, blinded her, but it didn't matter. She knew exactly where she was going. Her boots slammed against the hard dirt that lay undisturbed below her feet. Racing as fast as the wind could carry her she burst through the flaps of medical, stopping in her tracks, the makeshift door falling closed behind her. 

He was still, too still. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his foot flat on the warm metal, a look like nothing Abby had ever seen before coated his eyes. She had always seen him standing tall, his back and shoulders positioned just right. A strong and determined look to his face. She had always seen him moving without a fault in his step, ready to take on any challenge that dare fall before him.   
Now, he was broken. His shoulders lay slouched, along with his back. His arms were rested lazily on his lap, where Abby had held her breath at the sight of a small handgun. She wasn't too late. His fingers barely brushed against the metal, she was worried it'd fall to the ground, not that that would be a bad thing. 

Abby didn't say anything. She could barely move. It was as if the world was at a stand still, not even the light breathing in her chest could be felt through her body, and it was then she realized she had been holding her air. She took a shallow breath and a deep gulp, trying her hardest to shuffle her feet forward, fearful of what she may see once she became closer. He didn't look up, didn't even acknowledge her, she was only a draft traveling through. Abby took a few more steps, approaching him slow and steady, her hands shacking.   
She had yet to utter a word, and instead sat slowly besides him, leaning down to see his face, his expression.   
His jaw was clenched tightly shut, his breathing normal and steady. But there was something missing. His eyes were droopy and distant, a blank stare engulfing whatever hint of life he may have had left in him. His skin was coated in a cold sweat, his shirt sticking to his back. 

The silence that surrounded them hurt both of their ears. The ringing that plagued their minds and slowly pushed them both into insanity. It screamed all around them, taunting them, intimidating them. It was only after the long pause of torture, the pause that kept her waiting on the edge of her seat, that Marcus finally spoke, his deep breath immediately catching Abby's attention. 

"I'm a coward," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, sounds of sadness mixed into his words.   
She didn't say anything, didn't want to. This was his moment and she knew it. His moment to come to terms with everything that was plaguing his dreams, slowly taking over his mind, destroying everything he'd worked so hard to forget. This was his moment to spill to her all the thoughts that surged through him every day, eradicating his want for love.   
"I always thought that suicide the easy way out, for the people who don't have the courage to face their own mistakes, their own problems, that it doesn't take anything to cut your own wrists, or to float yourself," he paused, anger rising through him, his eyes never leaving the gun in his hands, "I can't even lift it to my head without shaking like a fool. I can't do it, Abs. I want to, I want to so badly that it hurts but..." He trailed off, tears slowly flooding down his cheeks,  
a muffled sob escaping his throat, "I'm a coward, the easy way out is too difficult for me."

Abby studied his every feature, every clear drop that slowly lowered its way down his cold skin. She locked her eyes onto one, the leader of many, and watched as it trailed down father and farther. He took a breath, the tears finally dropping down onto the gun he had refused to look away from. It was only then Abby even remembered it was there. She glanced back to his eyes, slowly taking the gun from his hands. His head slowly turned to look at her, his expression never changing. She carefully wrapped her arm around his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his shirt, the skin beneath her finger tips, the slight shifting of his body under his light breathing. He lowered his head, resting it on her shoulder where he felt comfort rise over him.   
He thought nothing, felt nothing, he felt like the world around him was blank, and he was the dark streak wiped across it.  
He noticed Abby lightly stroking his hair, working her fingers through each piece, combing it back and fourth. This brought him more peace as his mind travelled back so long ago. His mother sifting his hair as he cried to her, the weight of his fathers death on his shoulders. Yet another reason ending it would help the pain go away, all the memories, all the regrets. 

"I'm done with the heavy games we play, Abby. I just want them to be over," he cried quietly, his shoulders gently shacking as the tears continued to flow. 

"Marcus," Abby said to him, her voice soft and calming, as if she could settle a hurricane with only her words to bring the beast to a rest, "Marcus, it's ok," gripping him even tighter, holding him even closer, his eyes shut tight to blind himself from the monsters before him, almost silent sobs of mercy escaping his lips, "Marcus, listen to me, you are not a coward," water began to fill Abby's eyes as well as she laid to rest her head atop of his, "do you hear me? This... this is far from the easy way out. Believe me, I've thought about it too, but," she paused, unsure of where to begin next, "...I've learnt this race for survival doesn't begin at the sound of a gun, it's where it ends. You put that pistol to your head, and you pull the trigger, these heavy games will end, but there will be no victor, only blood on the court... You have to keep fighting, Marcus, you have to win, you promised me. You are not a coward, Marcus Kane, you mark my words, you are not a coward"

Her words lingered in their ears for quiet some time, tears trailing from both their eyes. She could feel the beating of his heart, how it echoed through him. The drums of his life playing harder than ever before, striking faster with each fall of the palm. He smelt of forest and campfire, not of sweat and death. The man that sat beside her, wrapped in the wires of his past, his hair soft and beard trimmed. His skin smooth yet full of sweat, his wounds bandaged and sewn. The man who believed peace was found not through murder, but through sacrifice. That was who he is, who he had always been. He was never free of his bonds, clean shaven and hair slicked back. His skin was never clean or free of dirt, he was never free of the scars that soaked his clothes in blood. That was only the uniform he wore. 

"You should get some rest," Abby whispered, "I'll stay with you"  
Marcus withheld his answer, unsure of what to say. He felt his mouth was bound by fabric, drenched in alcohol making his mind looped and fuzzed. Unable to speak, he simply nodded, feeling Abby's hand around his shoulder gently nudge him down. He brought his legs atop the cold, hard cot, and laid his head to rest on Abby's lap, finally being able to savor the feel of her hands running down his scalp, through his thick locks and down his cheek, then back up to start again. As one hand wrapped around his stomach, the other came up to grip her hand, her soft skin warming his.   
Then, he heard it. At first it was quiet, barely audible to his ears. Thinking he had gone mad, he tried drowning it out with the constant screaming in his skull. But soon it grew louder, softer, filling him with a sort of peace he had not felt in so long. He couldn't hold back any longer, before he even had a chance to take his next breath, he allowed the music to wash over him, to drown him in the sweet repose that made his body tremble in relief. He even recognized the tune she hummed.   
Abby had always known his favorite song, the notes that always cooled his burning mind. She played these for him now as he drifted off into a deep sleep, his body finally falling into a state of stillness. The tremble that once took control of him had melted away. The sweat that bathed his body began to recede. Yet the tears in his eyes lingered through the night. 

It was only after he had gone to rest that Abby began to sob. Leaning her head back against the metal wall she allowed all the emotions she had bottled inside to burst. How had it come to this? She knew they were both on the edge of snapping. The death of their parents, the oxygen crisis, the war against mount weather and a new one approaching. It was all so much. So much death, so much destruction. She had always feared the moment when it would become to much, the moment she couldn't hold on any longer. And now she saw it, she witnessed it happen right in front of her. If a man like Marcus Kane thought the world too big to handle, how much longer did she have until that pistol was pointed towards her temple?  
Abby immediately dropped the thought, pushing it down and drowning it in her tears. That was not the way to think or act. She could not travel down that path again, not after the mountains she had created to block it. 

A slight stir below her hand tore her from her dark and dangerous thoughts. It was then she had noticed she still held Marcus's tune in her throat, even after he was asleep, and tears had fallen steeply down her skin. She felt his hand clench tighter around hers, the night terrors settling in faster than she had expected them too. No doubt he would awaken soon, terror painted across his face. It was heartbreaking to Abby, no matter how many times she was forced to kiss his lips, to wipe away the tears and tell him he was going to be ok, that it was only a dream he had created. The only problem was, it was never a just dream, even when reality came banging on the door. She remembered the moments he had done it to her. All those years ago when the ark was still a society knotted in chaos, after Mount Weather, when the pain was still fresh in her aching mind. He would wipe the tears from her cheeks, and rub small circles across her stomach, just how she liked. She could almost hear him whispering softly into her ear, could almost feel his breath against her neck, how it sent shivers down her spine that erased all the fear she held from her dream. She knew the feeling of constant fear to finally be blocked for a few moments by the ones strong enough to hold it for you. She smiled as the memories slowly began to fade from her mind, her eyes slowly beginning to close as she looked down to Marcus. There was no blood on the floor, no body to be buried, yet there were still two corpses, one with long blonde hair, and the other, without a leg. 

§₩§

The morning came before Abby had realized night was upon them. The sore in her neck became almost unbearable as she raised her head, eyes fluttering open. She remembered those bitter long nights in the hospital. Illness spread quickly up in space, and when an epidemic hit, she knew she would be receiving little sleep. Every morning she would awaken to a shooting pain down her spine, falling asleep at her desk had those affects.   
Only this time, there wasn't a line of patients waiting outside her door, coughing and sniffling their sickness away, no. There was only one. 

He was still dead asleep, his breathing heavy and even. Abby was more than surprised to find there were no beads of sweat falling from his skin, or tears dripping down his tanned cheeks. She listened to the silence that surrounded them, amazed his screams weren't circling around her like the autumn winds. He seemed content, almost peaceful. Yet, there were still the cuts and bruises that trailed along his face and neck, reminders of the past that became locked into both of their minds.

Abby ran her fingers through his hair once more, combing it around until the thick curls formed neatly around his head. She carefully pulled every knot that twisted his strands, trying her hardest as to not wake him from the first peaceful slumber he has had all month. It was soft under her cold fingers, like the newly flourished grass that sprouted in the warmth of spring. She remembered trying to cut it before they set out for Polis, how he complained for hours, almost begging her to leave it be. At the time, she cursed herself for letting him win. Now, she wasn't so sure. 

A sudden flicker of his eye lids forced her hand to stop, watching as he slowly began to stir. For a few moments, all he could do was look up to her, a confused expression lain across his face. Abby tried to smile, tried to make him feel like there was still something to look forward to as his eyes opened in the morning. But, his expression didn't change. He didn't grin back, didn't give her a reassuring nod. He just stared, as if there was still blood coating Abby's face. 

"Are you ok?" Abby finally broke the silence, his eyes continuing to stare blankly up to her

He blinked a few times, finally focusing on Abby's lips, before flicking up to her nose, and finally her eyes, that bore down to him with fear and worry 

"I'm fine," He questioned, "why are you looking at me like that?"

She almost didn't believe him. Did he not know he was basically in a dead stare from the moment he had waken up? Did he not remember anything from the night before? She tried to ignore his behavior, but found it hard to forget. 

"N-nothing," she stuttered, watching as he sat up, combing his hair back with his hand. Abby paused, listening as he popped his knuckles, ran his fingers along his stitches. She didn't know what his 'morning routine' was, but she figured she had just experienced it, for when he was finished, he sat besides her, in silence.   
"Marcus, if you-"

"I don't want to talk about last night," he growled, turning his head towards her. It didn't take him long to realize his sudden aggressive behavior. He tried to soften his voice, "please, not right now"

Abby was not surprised by his tone at all. Of course he would be embarrassed or angry, it was all part of the package. But, pretending that it never happened was dangerous. Abby had dealt with patients who had the same thoughts as him. At first, they refused to talk, to listen, to do anything. But, after a few days, they always came bouncing back. Always. 

Marcus was all too familiar with the stare she gave him. He could see her thoughts through her eyes as she studied him. His every move and expressing, working on the cards she held in her mind. 

"Ok," she finally nodded, her eyes holding onto his.   
He gave a short sigh of relief, looking back to the barren floor as if it were masterpiece. Coming to the ground, that was the real picture, the real painting that millions lined up to speculate. Well, looks can be deceiving. Once you realize the red is made of blood and canvas made of skin, it's too late, you've seen it all. 

"Well," Abby stood, grabbing the gun that had sat by her side all night. She was prepared to continue her sentence, but paused as she looked down to the weapon that was held in her hands. It was heavy and cold, like the weight that pushed down on both of their shoulders. She rubbed the handle with her thumb, feeling the bumps and curves of the metal. How someone could kill another, or even themselves, with such an instrument horrified her.   
Looking back to Marcus she finally ended her stumble and continued, "I'm working in medical today. I need to get things organized and I-"

"And you don't want to let me out of your sight, I get it," Marcus finished her sentence, laying back down. 

Abby looked to the ground, hoping he couldn't see the redness that began forming across her cheeks. It was true, but she would never admit it. She was lucky to find him still alive the night before, she didn't want to find out what the opposite path would be.   
Marcus didn't have to look to his right to know she didn't know what to say, that she was shuffling her deck. He laughed quietly to himself. It was nothing for her to be ashamed of, and he didn't blame her. 

Abby looked up, finally able to catch her words, "I just have a lot to do, that's all," she nodded, trying her best to keep the conversation from going south. 

"Yeah, ok," he sighed, his arms across his chest as he stared toward the ceiling, tracing the wires and strips of metal that kept the place together. Maybe that's all he needed, a few wires and strips to keep his mind from collapsing.   
He could hear Abby's feet shuffle farther and farther from him, their conversation obviously dropped. His leg was a little sore, but he tried to ignore it, pretending it wasn't there, that it never happened. It helped with the pain. At night he could feel it, almost like it was still there. It didn't hurt, and he didn't mind it. It was a time he could pretend everything was ok, that his life wasn't screwed. 

"Did you sleep well?" Abby began marking boxes she'd yet to fill with equipment, glancing up to Marcus who lay unmoving. 

"Fine, thank you," he moved his hands to cover his eyes, trying to concentrate, "How's your neck?"

She was surprised at his question, seeing as though she never really told him how she fell asleep. He must've been able to tell by her silence she was surprised.   
"I woke up in the middle of the night, saw you asleep over me. Your neck must hurt?" He helped fill her misunderstanding. 

Abby was surprised, "my neck is fine. You woke up last night?"

"Dreams," he coughed, clearing his throat 

Abby continued working. Of course it was the dreams. It was always the dreams. She felt bad for not awakening when he did, but she couldn't help it, she was so tired, so exhausted. There was so much to do, and with the constant thought of Marcus in her mind, it took more energy than normal to truly focus. 

"Have you heard anything from Polis?" he sat up. Becoming restless was a habit of his when he grew bored. 

"Nothing yet, but I'm sure we'll get more news soon. I don't want to march, especially against ALIE," Abby said not even looking up from her projects. 

"I want to march. Even if we don't send our troops out, I could make a deal with Indra to go with them a-" he stopped once he noticed the evil glare that was pointed in his direction. 

"Marcus," she said angrily, "a chunk of your neck is missing, and you have one leg. You're not going anywhere, understand?"

"I can find a prosthetic," he fought. He was prepared to say more, but the laugh that escaped Abby's mouth stopped him from saying anything more. 

"If we ever found a prosthetic, possibly in Mount Weather, you still wouldn't be able to run," she wasn't playing 'Mr. Nice Guy' anymore. She wasn't comforting or reassuring anymore. The anger and annoyance that rose inside of her at his foolish pleads was enough for her to crack just enough to snap. 

"Raven could help make improvements. Abby, they took everything from me. My life is screwed, your life is screwed. I won't just sit here an-"

"They took everything? Marcus, what did they take besides your leg," she spat, standing from the floor, "you may not be able to walk, but you're still alive"

He laughed to himself, "they didn't just take my leg. They took my ability to do anything without relying on another. They didn't just take my men, they took my child. They took everything I cared about, and soaked it in blood, including you"

 

"Then what will you do when you find them? When you find Jaha and ALIE, how will you get even with them? You can't"

"Yes I can," Marcus was yelling now, if the whole camp couldn't hear them before, they definitely could now,"I'm going to kill them myself, you mark my words I may have the blood of three hundred people on my hands, and I may suffer for it, but I am not afraid to make it three hundred and two" 

Abby was screaming right back, "you can't walk on your own, bathe, or dress. You can only stand by yourself for a few minutes before you loose your balance. How do you expect to march hundreds of miles and maybe not even find what you're looking for once you're there?"

"I don't know, but i can't just sit here and wave as I watch my pathetic excuse for a life fly out the window. Do you know why I showed you the Eden Tree? Because it brings me hope and comfort and, I may have been wrong, but you looked pretty lost and hopeless then. Hope can be dangerous, but at least it's something I can hold onto to help me stand. I heard you speaking to Jaha, you said so yourself, hope is everything" 

"Hope does nothing"

Marcus slammed his hand down against the cold metal of his cot, a thunderous roar echoing through the room, his voice growing even louder, "God damn it it must do something or else I wouldn't be here. Every time you looked into my eyes it's given me hope, every time you gave me a reassuring smile or nod it gave me hope, you give me hope, Abby, and that's what I need right now. I know I promised you I would fight, but I can't do that when I haven't gotten revenge for what they did to me. For what they did to us," She was prepared to answer, but was cut off again by the waves and waves of anger that stormed through Marcus like a hurricane, "he didn't just try to kill our people, he abandoned them, then turned his back on the ones he fought for his whole life. I am done sitting her and playing the puppet on the end of the clans's strings. If it's my leg that's holding me back, it's just a leg, I have another one."

Abby stood, surrounded by boxes and boxes of medical equipment, staring into his eyes as if he was her worst fear. She didn't know how to respond now, his reddened skin and clenched jaw, the sudden slam of his fist down on the loose metal. she feared all it would take was the weight of a feather to shatter the dam that held back the full force of his anger. She knew from years of experience that a 'no' to Marcus, was always translated into a 'yes.' That one way or another, he would find a way to the City of Light. Abby knew she would never have a man as stubborn and tight bottled as Marcus Kane figured out. Even after their more than friendly relationship was established, getting him untangled was impossible, even for her.

It didn't take long to figure out that he was holding his ground, waiting anxiously for her to make the first notion of a continued conversation. Her stare left his as her eyes travelled down to his neck, scanning every stitch that was roped into his skin. They immediately dropped to the bandages at his leg, his stare burning a hole in her head. They lingered for quite some time, studying the few drops of blood that seeped their way out of his cotton dressings. Abby didn't know what was happening, whether they were to march with the twelve clans, risking the lives of every soldier she was responsible for. Or, stay behind, risking their alliance and safety of every man, women, and child who was left breathing behind their walls.   
She didn't have an answer, couldn't supply one. She looked to his lips for a split moment before her eyes met his.   
A small sigh escaped her lips, a warm feeling growing through her cheeks.   
"If you're ready to make the journey, when the time comes, I can't stop you," she didn't wait to find his reaction, instead she sat down again sorting through boxes and medical supplies. 

"I'll be ready," Marcus sneered, laying down again. He felt his back pop and settle, the cold metal chilling his bones. He needed time to think, to catch his breath, for silence to embrace him. He was going to the City of Light, and was going too be returning to Abby, no matter how angry she'd become. Their journey was over, but it was still fresh in her mind. But in his mind, he was still living it, he always would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up soon


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus goes missing, and Abby struggles to find him

Overmorrow Chapter 8 

Night was always the hardest for Abby. During the day she was kept busy, her mind always focused, with no time to be sidetracked. But it was when the sun went down, when the camp finally settled and the chaos was over, that she was left alone with her thoughts. Every howl of the wind or shuffling of feet outside her door sent shivers down her spine. Was it them? Had they come to take them away? The paranoia consumed her, driving her slowly into insanity. She could feel it growing through her like vines, clinging to her every thought. She knew she was over reacting, that nothing could get through the camps electric fence, couldn't they?

She knew camp was empty at night. The only guards were stationed around the fence line and armory, whilst the rest of her people slept soundly in their bunks. If there was an attack, they would know immediately by the just the noise. So why was she worried? Why was she constantly laying awake at night, always sleeping with one eye open? Perhaps it was the nightmares. Or the scar that streaked across her stomach. 

She ran her fingers along the soft bandage as she lay awake, staring towards the starry filled sky. She had grown hot laying next to Marcus, sweat beginning to form across her body. The freezing winter cooled her skin almost instantly, but as time went on, her eyes focused onto the darkness above, she decided a few more minutes alone wouldn't do any harm. That was until minutes turned to hours. She didn't mind the numbness of her fingers, or the chill that ran up her spine.  
She found it surprisingly easy to ignore the cold, instead her mind drifted to Clarke. Abby tried to ignore her, to deny she was missing, pretend everything was ok. Some called it foolish, rude. But she, she called it coping. She knew If she let her mind stray even a little towards her daughter, she would be unfit for a leader. She would fall slowly into a deep and vicious madness with no way to pull herself out. That's why she did anything and everything she could to deny the problem, to pretend her Clarke was only a figment of her imagination. It worked for a while, she got used to the constant feeling that something was off until it was almost gone. Raven had agreed to surgery on her leg, and now, walking was almost as easy as it was before she had gotten shot. Then there was Marcus. Abby tried to ignore her feelings for him, tried to disperse the thoughts and dreams that came to her mind. But when he pressed his lips against hers for the first time, she realized it was either deny Clarke or deny him, it was impossible to do both. 

She did not regret her decision, never would. What she had with him was something she'd missed, something she felt was different then the last. It took her mind of the worry, completed her. She remembered their childhood dreams they whispered to each other. All the long nights staring out the window at the stars, sneaking to the amphitheater, admiring the Eden Tree. Then came the screaming, the punching. Not between them, of course, but their own fathers. She'd never forget that night when her life went to Hell. She still dreamt about it sometimes, could still hear her parents screams and Marcus's pleads for them to stop, whilst she stood frozen solid to the floor. After the bloodshed, Mr.Kane storming from the room, she thought it was all over, that he would be floated for what he'd done when a new day had dawned. That was until Marcus came knocking on her door at 3 am with blood all the way up to his elbows. 

She quickly dropped the thought the moment it began to head south. She had come outside to relax, not meditate on the past that she couldn't control. After a few more moments of laying by herself, watching the stars float peacefully by, she no longer felt in the mood to be alone, and decided heading back to bed was her best option. She listened as her boots made the snow under her feet crunch, the sound bringing back so many memories. She could barely remember what her life was like before it went to Hell. Every crack, every whisper, every holler felt like an arrows shaft had been slowly pushed through her gut. That's why as she neared medical, a thunderous echo escaping the mouth of the Ark, she nearly jumped out of her skin. 

The first thing that came to her mind, besides an army of mutants finally finding a way inside of their walls, was a fight. It was on more than one occasion someone had had to much to drink, and decided a brawl was the best way to solve a dispute. She peered behind her, seeing that nobody bad bothered to inspect the strange noise. Was she hearing things? She couldn't be, could she? She was almost prepared to drop the whole ordeal and continue back to their warm cot when she heard it again. A little quieter, but no less striking. That was when she knew her imagination was not at play. Picking up her pace she sped into the warm yet dark confines of the metal structure, seeking the source of her curiosity. Through the halls were memories long since forgotten by most. Scratches sketched into the metal, dents pounded onto the floor, paint stains left splattered on the ceiling. That's what 97 years of constant human trafficking did to a place. 

Abby jumped again at the sound of the crash, this time even louder than before. It was a miracle those who slept in the ark were given virtually sound proof rooms. Who knew the chaos a sound like so could rupture. It became more steady, erupting faster and louder with each passing second, as if it were drums. It led her towards a part of the station that was blocked by large scraps of fallen metal and rocks that pierced the floor from their descent. Everyone knew there was no point in clearing the rubble yet, it was too much work, and required too much energy. So, no one bothered taking a walk down the abandoned hall, where all they would find was a dead end. That's how a hole, hollowed from the debris, had gone un noticed for so long, besides the fact it was half way covered by a loose sheet of faded and ripped plastic. 

Pushing it to the side, Abby lowered herself onto her knees, peering into the hall that glowed with the warmness of a dimmed torch. A small groan escaped her lips as she quietly crawled her way through the opening. It was a bit wider than her, but its height was low, and she found herself bumping her head on numerous occasions. She was relieved to finally reach the other side, standing quietly as to not disturb whatever was causing the camps disruption.  
She knew she should get back to Marcus, that he would awaken soon from his nightly terrors. She knew she should have brought guards, that the source of this noise could very well be a dangerous threat. She knew, she knew, she knew. But, she didn't care. She didn't care if she lived or died, if her heart stopped or it continued beating day in and day out. All she feared was the suffering. The endless suffering. 

As quietly as she could, pushing her thoughts of turning back in the far reaches of her mind, she pushed on, making sure to stay out of sight. It was so close now, right on the other side of the wall, its door way aglow with the fire that danced inside, its warmth radiating into the halls. Abby crouched, then peered slowly around the corner, taking in the breathtaking view. There were so many colors and patterns, so many shapes and designs. The arms of the fire, placed in the center of the room, extended out to the walls, caressing the paintings with a comforting radiance. There were trees, mountains, waterfalls, a whole earth designed on the bones of industry's. 

Suddenly, another clash came ringing through her ears, as Abby's mesmerized eyes immediately snapped from their stare, and pierced the hide of its creator. She froze, her heart skipping a beat as she stared shocked at the man slouched onto his knees in the corner.  
"Marcus," Abby gasped, her choice a mixture of surprise and disbelief.  
Standing from her spot, she made her way to his side, grabbing his fist as it prepared to strike against the wall again.  
"Marcus, stop this," she told him, her free hand grasping the side of his neck and cheek. He finally took his gaze from the wall and slowly looked to her, anger in his eyes. 

"I am busy," he screamed, before returning his attention to the dent he had created in the metal.  
His breathing became even quicker. She could feel him try to pull from her grasp. Fighting back, Abby improved her force, squeezing even tighter. As Marcus tried to tear from her hand, she fell forward, knocking him back against the wall. 

His knees were torn and scrapped, his bandage ripped and covered with dirt. Abby immediately knew he didn't have a friend bring him here, he crawled here. She leaned in closer, but kept her distance, returning his angered stare with one of her own. 

"What are you doing?" She asked, taking his hand in hers, inspecting the damage of his knuckles. 

He jumped as she applied pressure, trying to hide his pain.  
"You were gone, I took it as a chance to let my anger out"

"On the wall?" 

He watched as she cleared the blood from his hand with the fabrics of her sleeve, "on anything but you. You're trying to do what's best for me, I know, but it angers me that you care, so the wall is my victim, I guess"  
His skin was red as he tried to catch his breath. 

Abby thought for a few moments, "what is this place?"

"I decided I'd check the rubble out, and found this. It was kinda dull, I added color. I suppose it just lets me get away from it all," he sighed, his eyes falling to the floor, before he leaned his head back against the wall, closing them completely. 

Abby dropped his hand, finding there was nothing left to do except wrap it in bandages later. But, for the time being, she simply sat beside him, staring at the art on the opposite wall.  
"Where'd you get the paint?"

He laughed quietly at her question, "some of it was in storage, some of it I traded with Trikru"

She paused, letting the crackling of the fire drown out the silence, "it's pretty" 

He didn't respond, just kept his eyes closed and rested. It was quiet for quite some time. Abby had once thought he was asleep, that was until he moved to intertwine their fingers.  
"I'm sorry about earlier," he said quietly, "I really am. But, that doesn't change anything. With all due respect, i'm still going to do whatever it takes for revenge" 

"I know," Abby's voice was barely above a whisper, "there's not much I can do to stop you"

She could feel his body grow less tense at her words, but she made sure to never mistake his looseness calm. For all she knew he could still be a boiling pot of water. 

Abby sighed, turning her head so that she could look to the side of his. She admired his dark, long hair. Each strand falling perfectly into place, even after his recent take out of the wall. The peppered silk that decorated his cheeks and chin. The scars that were etched into his skin. Some were small, and less noticeable. Other were large, right in the most important of places. But she didn't care, she saw them as a trademark, a definition of who he was. 

He could feel her soft stare, and returned the gesture, his dark eyes staring into her own. He felt calm then, like the world had stopped turning. He knew it was cheesy of him to think so, but it was hard to deny the truth.  
"Thanks for finding me before a broke a hand or something," he smirked, his gaze moving to their hands once more. 

"Honey, you have broken your hand at least nine times in your life, stop pretending like we would both be surprised," she savored the laugh that escaped his lips. It had been so long since she had heard him find humor in anything. Perhaps their world really was shifting for the best.  
His laugh turned quickly to a yawn, and Abby couldn't help but rest her head onto his shoulder, her eyes exploring the paintings on the wall one last time. Marcus looked down to her dark, golden hair, but didn't say a word. He was never a big cuddlier, but whenever Abby pushed up against him, he could lay there forever. Feeling his eyes grow heavy, he leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closing as he quickly drifted off to a deep slumber.  
Abby immediately knew when he was out, his body slouching limp under hers. She tried not to think of the past, present, or future. She tried to forget Clarke and ignore Marcus. To pretend that she was nothing, a speck of dust in the wind. That's what she had to do if she wanted any sleep. Every night, it was the same routine, the same ordeal. She'd grown used to it after a while, and had mastered the art. But now, she was left with her mind swarming with question. Did Jackson not hear Marcus leave? How had he gotten here so fast? Why didn't he take this opportunity to end his life again?  
She knew they were all foolish and morbid questions, but she also knew those were the thoughts that came to her mind as she tried to sleep at 3 am. 

§₩§

 

The morning didn't bring much comfort to either of them. At first, Abby was confused on her location, the darkness that over encumbered her, the strange streaks on the metallic walls, the stuffiness in the air. That was until she felt Marcus's soft breaths beside her, his legs and hand tangled in her own. She watched his hair fall lightly down his head that stayed bowed to the hard floor. He was slumped over in such a way that made her uncomfortable just by watching.  
She had missed their old routine, waking up every morning in each other's arms, grabbing a quick bite together before taking on the days challenges. She'd see his smile and hear his laugh and it instantly charged her, made her the best she ever was. Now, it was like speaking with ghosts. There were no feelings expressed, no light in his eyes. There were occasional times where his spark would return, where his expression changed and for a moment the world gave lean to his shoulders. But, it was only for a moment, maybe two, before the cold wind blew his flame to darkness. 

She'd considered waking him from his sleep. His bandages stained red with blood and brown with dirt and mud. She could see his stitches loosening and clothes sticking to his skin. Bruises on his hand becoming visible past his wrap, Abby prayed it wasn't broken. However, like every time she's considered disturbing his rest, she'd decide against it. He needed the rest. Not only to heal his wounds, but let him, only for a few moments, feel free. On the nights he didn't wake up thrashing, screaming, sweat trailing down his chest and brow, she hoped perhaps it meant he was someplace else. Someplace better. Or, he'd just become used to the pain. Its long, discomforting sting numbing even his thoughts.  
Her eyes trailed across the paintings on the walls again. They followed every streak, every blend in color. She never thought of him as much as a painter, or even remotely interested in art. Yet somehow here he was, locked away in a room with nothing but color surrounding him. Besides, if it took away the stress, why could she judge? She remembered herself on the Ark, writing line after line of literature, but only when red clouded her vision, when anger rose through her she channeled it all through her unspoken words. You do things you wouldn't normally do when something else takes control, be it good or bad. 

Marcus hummed next to her, his deep voice ringing low in her ears. She could feel the vibration of his throat against her skin. After a few moments of watching and waiting, she finally saw his eyes flicker open, immediately staring directly into hers. He said nothing, but by the looks he gave to her, she didn't doubt his dream was a bad one. They were wild and cold, so full of fear and weakness she could have mistaken him for a corpse, it's eyes still and body lifeless. She wasn't phased by the freaked expression, she'd become used to the horror, even experienced it herself. It was just a part of their new routine. 

"Are you ok?" She finally asked after a few moments of tension between them both. 

He blinked a few times, almost as if the pain was only dust that has manages to get caught up in the wind, getting into his eyes. He cleared his throat, "I'm fine," he mumbled, "just didn't know where I was for a second, that's all"

Abby gave a small but reassuring smile , knowing there was something he was keeping to himself, something he didn't wish for her to know. 

It didn't take long for him to cave into her look, knowing he would have to tell her eventually.  
"I can feel it again. My leg. Like it's still there," he swallowed hard, taking a few short breaths,"it hurts"

"I bet it does," Abby frowned, looking down to the bandages. Now that he was awake, it was time to change them, add a new barrier between his open flesh and the plagued world. It was just getting him through camp. He'd never been out since the day he returned from the forest. Hadn't seen anyone besides Jackson or her for weeks. She was worried about the crowds, the people who may come up to him looking for questions and storming away with few answers. The eyes staring into his wound, as if he were inhuman. If it hurt her, who knew how much it'd hurt him.  
She supposed it was her fault. She hadn't allowed him any visitors, needing him to rest as much as he could. Bellamy and Lincoln were going crazy, she knew, but he was still trapped in the mind of terror and grief, not yet ready for the world he would be forced to occupy.  
"It will get better, I promise," she continued, moving his hair away from his eyes,"you just have to power through it. Now come on, we have to get you back to medical"

He chuckled quietly to himself, "so you can what? Change my bandages and tell me to sleep some more? I need to walk, to work, to do something besides sitting on my ass and hoping my leg will be back by the time I wake up. I know why you're afraid, it's because you don't know what to do next"

She didn't know how to respond. Their light conversation had flared in seconds, and Abby wasn't sure how to take the next step. So she began with a sigh.  
"I know, and you're right, I don't know what to do next. I've never had to deal with something like this before, even in my profession," she paused, "I'll make you a deal. You come back with me to medical, rest one more day, and then we'll start making trips around camp"

It didn't take Marcus long to think. It was a good offer. With the lack of sleep he had received the night before, perhaps it would be healthy to rest for one more day. Now all he had to do was get back.  
He nodded in understanding, a small smirk of gratitude making his lips twitch towards the ceiling.  
Abby immediately reached out her hand to take a hold of his, preparing to once again get him onto his foot. Taking his arm she stood first, pulling him up in her wake. He caught his bearings for a few moments, his face loosing color. 

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Marcus yawned, "just got a little light headed"

Even after clearing their way through the rubble, neither had said much of anything. An occasional "please" or "thank you" was spoken, but nothing more. Both were used to the silence, to the bitter nothing that filled their ears. At first they hated it, wanted nothing more but a sweet song to be sang, filling their dark world with light. Now, they'd both just given up. They took it slow, edging their ways through the cold ark halls. Normally Abby would be unhappy seeing so few people roaming the corridors, knowing it would be a slow day. However, now, she was great full of the lack of commotion, for both their sakes. The closer they came towards the doors, the more nervous she became. Marcus having a breakdown in front of the entire camp was not what she needed. He wouldn't be ready to walk then, to face the everyday crowds. If pained her to think of that road, but it was there, and always needed be put into consideration. 

Soon they came so close to the doors, Marcus could smell the fresh air. The smokey scent of the fires filled his nostrils, calming his thoughts. He savored the dew filled breeze, the morning bringing bright droplets to the grasses who's thick hair waved in the wind. Even the lumber he could smell. The sappy scent that somehow always pleased him. Nobody ever cared for chopping wood, but someone had to do it. That's why sometimes he'd volunteer to cut, the gummy aroma shifting around him in the breeze. He knew from the light that glowed faintly around the corner that the sky was clouded. On the ark he was interested in the snow, would give anything to feel its fluffed crystals. Feel the cold prick his fingers and the white surround him. Now the only color he knew it as was red. Still, he was welcome to watch the flurries fall swiftly from the sky, hoping to give them another chance. 

The freezing air hit them with such force it took both their breaths away. Neither had brought a coat, and both were open to the harsh wind that pricked their skin. Abby helped him over the step that was at the door, making sure he didn't fall face down into the ground. The thought made her smile. It was dark and cruel humor, but she couldn't help but imagine the look on his face when he'd look back to her.  
Marcus noticed her smirk, but said nothing. He wanted it to last, to savor the small smile that was spread lightly across her face as long as he could. It brought a feeling from his core all the wall out to the surface that had seen so much. He didn't really know why a simple smile made everything disappear for a few seconds, but it did, and he tried his best to not question it. 

Once Abby's smile disappeared, he went back to focusing on his steps once more. He thought perhaps no one would bat an eye in their direction, that if they were lucky maybe they could blend In with the crowds, just a few more pretty faces in the chaos. He was wrong.  
It wasn't even at three steps could he feel the eyes burning a hole in his leg. He didn't mind so much of that, how could they not look? But the thought of conversation gave him a feeling almost described as a sickening one. That was when the guards came. Two of them sprang from their positions, leaning against the arks metal, and made their way to his side. He was expecting words to be traded, remarks on his health or business to be conversed over. That's why when they grabbed his arms, politely taking him from Abby, his heart had almost skipped a beat in surprise. 

"We have him Chancellor Griffin, just tell us where we need to go"

She was surprised herself, almost having a loss of words.  
"T-to medical," she stuttered, hoping the chilly air may mask her surprise. Not one person had come to speak with them, to take them away from the mission at hand. It was almost as if they knew. She was about to follow the guards to medical when a familiar face caught her attention. Lincoln was back hidden in the crowds, his eyes scanning the scene. He'd been much eager to speak with Marcus, yet he held his ground, and tongue. He only nodded and smiled lightly, a message of understanding spoken without words to her. She looked away and kept walking. She didn't respond, didn't need to. He knew, they both knew.

People watched, whispering words quietly into each other's ears. They waited and followed his every move. It wasn't until all were hidden by the flaps of medical did the small crowds disperse. No one seemed to notice when the guards exited as well. Abby proceeded through her normal routine, cleaning the wounds and sopping up the blood, re bandaging his leg. His neck was almost healed, but needed wrapped nonetheless. He no longer winced or cried in pain when she pulled the red stained cotton from his skin, the dried blood pulling on his sensitive flesh. She tried not asking why. 

Once he was cleaned, his shirt removed to be washed, Abby had thought the day would go by smoothly. That he would rest and she would continue her work as chancellor. The next morning they would put their next mission into action. That ship sailed away real quick. Neither were expecting the army to show up at their gates. The hundreds of Trikru with weapons all firmly in their hands. The war paint spread across their faces. The fire in their eyes. That was when Marcus knew for sure that war was not coming. It was already here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little busy so I may not have another chapter up for awhile, sorry!  
> feedback is great!  
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus takes the next step in recovery

Overmorrow Chapter 9

The meeting was longer than expected. No one could begin to count how many times they had gone over the problem, solution, risks, time frame. Everything was just so quick. It was only a few hours before that the army had marched to their gates, demanding to speak with the 'war leaders.' Camp Jaha hadn't a need for a war leader. It was Abby and Marcus, end of story.   
When Indra approached the entrance, four soldiers at her back, she demanded a visit with Abby. "No" was clearly not an option. However, Abby wasn't about to break her newly formed partnership, and when Indra was led into the hospital, her eyes became fixated on the bloodied bandages that slowly burned away in the fire. 

"Sanitation purposes," Abby explained, greeting her with a strong yet kind and relaxed stare. She knew Indra was no one to mess with. 

"I know,"Indra seemed almost annoyed, "I just wish to question who's it is, but under unfortunate circumstances have I already figured it out"  
Her words then were all Abby needed to know for sure that she really was angry, and she knew exactly why. 

She was prepared to respond to her complaint when Marcus stood from his cot, one hand gripping the wall in support as the other became a balled fist at his side. Although he was weak, he stood strong in the presence of the Trikrus leader.   
"It's my fault, Indra, leader gon Trikru, we both knew you would not be happy with our stay, but I was the one who caused this mess," he tried to seem as formal as possible, his voice nice and calm and strong on the outside. Even though on the inside he was screaming.   
"However, your people made sure to bring our unwelcome presence to justice, and I feel if we were able to repay the supplies we were given, we should be able to call it even"

Indra listened to what he had to say, not once glancing at his wound. To her, it didn't matter, nor did his words. Of course she was a little irritated about their sneaking around TonDC, but it wasn't the point she had come to make, and she made it quite clear.   
"I know about the poison that Neevanah had slipped you, but I do not apologize. It's our way of being even, no need for the extra supplies. She has been dealt with, but this war has not"

"Indra," Abby interrupted, immediately regretting her decision, "the Skaikru is not strong enough to fight a battle. The head of our guard just lost a limb, and half of our soldiers are still recuperating after Mount Weather"

"Which is why they will be accompanying my army," she spoke louder and more fierce, making sure to catch both of their attention,"there is no negotiating here. If you want peace with us again, then you can start your redemption by marching with me and five hundred of my soldiers to the Dead Zone, where we will meet with an army of one thousand strong, led by the commander. We leave in a weeks time. If you refuse, then it's a mistake you will regret" 

Marcus didn't think of the preparations or the soldiers. Didn't think of the possible blood shed or even what they were fighting against. All his mind continued racing to was the constant thought of the time he had to become strong again.   
'a week. I have a week'

Abby shared a few more words with their hasty friend and her guardians, however he paid no attention to their words. Instead, his eyes wandered the room, a blank stare spread across his face as his mind drifted off deep into thought. How was he to be prepared in a week? He didn't even have a leg to steady himself on. Raven couldn't come up with a prosthetic in less than a week, could she? He snapped back to reality once he felt eyes on him, Indra bore into his eyes as if she were reading his soul. They flickered down to his wound, eyeing it carefully before she turned away, walking from the room with pride. 

He could hear Abby release the breath she didn't know she was holding.   
"That was unexpected," her voice was almost a whisper. 

Looking up to Marcus, he tried giving her a reassuring smirk, "we can't ignore this. We'll be ready. I'll tell my men and w-"

"No," Abby spat, her mood changing like a flick of a switch, "don't you dare think for one second you are going," she glared to him. They'd grown to talk things over in a civil and kind matter, but Abby was losing her patience with his stubbornness. 

"Abby," his voice was steady and gentle, "I have a week, and you are not my mother"

"No, I am your chancellor"

"And you're my friend," that was when Abby didn't respond, instead she held her tongue as he kept going on, "you don't know what it's like to be 'incapable' of anything. I wake up every morning and think 'maybe I'll get to walk today?' and do you know what happens? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Instead, I sit on my ass all day, and look for any excuse just to stand because you won't let me otherwise. Imagine a person dying beside you and everyone is crowding around to help him, yet they push you away and say you can do nothing, even though you can do everything. That is what it's like for me every waking moment of my life. But don't worry, cause at night, I get to relive every moment of pain that I felt. I know you hurt too, I know you want to forget. But so do I, and I can't do that without moving on"  
He stopped, leaving Abby speechless. He wondered what went on in her mind, but soon dropped the question. He had so much more to say and explain, but no way to leave it in words.   
"You have to let me go, Abby," was all his mind could come up with. 

Both stood without words, their mouths shut tight and stitched together, eyes fixed tight on the others. Marcus could feel the sting of his words fresh on his tongue, regretting that he had ever spilled to her his anger. He expected the taste of blood to begin flowing down his throat and out his mouth. Instead he tried ignoring the sensation, staring into her heavy green eyes that looked back to him with a feeling be couldn't even begin to comprehend. 

"Sit down, Marcus," she demanded, her expression never changing. 

A chill ran up his spine. He wasn't looking for an argument, but it seemed that was what he had created. Instead of continuing on, he followed her orders, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

"Lie down," she spoke again in her same tone, held her body again in the same expression and stance. He didn't know what she was getting at, but if it made her happy, if it calmed her from the heat that Marcus had added to her already fired embers, then he couldn't ignore her wish.   
Lifting his legs, he swung them around the metal surface. He didn't bother removing his boot, it was one more layer to help warm his toes in the cold night. 

Again, Abby ordered him with a tone he hadn't heard in so long, it worried him, "close your eyes"  
Sighing, he did as he was told, lying on his back, legs flat on their side, pointed towards the wall. The twist in his spine popped his back, and he savored the relief it brought to his muscles. Resting his arm across his stomach, closing his eyes, he tried to fight off the feeling of guilt and regret that nagged at his every nerve. 

He strained his ears to listen to what she was to say next, but found not a word, but a sound. She shuffled her feet towards him, stopping at the edge of the bed. He wanted to open his eyes, grab her hand and apologize, even though it'd do nothing to replace the pain his words burned onto her skin.  
Instead, he flinched at the light peck on his lips. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with Abby's closed lids, her lips still on his, resting lightly on the chapped skin from the cold. He was surprised, but didn't complain. When she pulled away, standing, towering over his sore body, her expression lay un wavered, yet her eyes were somehow softer.   
"You should sleep, there's going to be lots of walking tomorrow"

Instead of staying behind, waiting to see his reaction, she took off towards the door, her feet crunching against the frozen ground.   
Marcus dropped his eyes to the floor studying every crack and dent in the metal. He didn't mean to lash out, but he couldn't help it. He'd been weak with his disability for far too long. Has been told countless times that tomorrow for sure would be the day, and yet it never happened. He tried being nice but it wasn't a secret it got him nowhere. The last straw had been pulled, and he was ready, he had to be, for his people. 

He closed his eyes again, trying to forget her face as he screamed his words of hate and anger right through her. It didn't work. Instead it formed a new picture, one that he would never forget. The image of her pushed against the wall, fingers digging into the metal, her eyes transfixed on the body on the floor. Her fathers body, cold and still, unlike the heart in her chest that best rapidly. Marcus could almost feel the blood that had splattered across his face dripping onto the floor. He could almost feel the stinging of his palms as his nails scraped at the flesh. He could've sworn he'd heard Mrs. Walters cry of anguish and shock as she collapsed onto the floor in a sob. He slammed his fist against the cold metal cot, refusing to let his mind wander any father, to the face of his mother as she opened the door, all the color draining from her skin. 

"He had it coming," the sound of his fathers voice disgusted him.   
Marcus shook his head, staring at the lantern beside of him. As he turned to lay on his side, hands under the pillow to help keep them warm, he watched the flame dance. It was warm and soft, flowing with the air in a rhythm that he liked to imagine as soft drums. He remembered dancing. At all the parties and celebrations on the ark. He was never one for it, but when someone asked him he almost never said yes. Now, he regretted ever saying no. He wanted more than anything to scoop Abby in his arms and twirl her around just one more time. To walk beside her as they discussed what had to be done. He missed the smallest of things. Like opening the door to his quarters, finding her asleep on his bed, escaping the people who had always come to knock on her door at the worst of times. These thoughts were all he needed to cure his thoughts. His eyes transfixed on the small flame that danced by his side until he finally felt weak. He was surprised sleep could even manage to welcome him with the amount of excitement that coursed through him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. That was all he could think of as he fell asleep. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. 

He thought he could hear Abby enter into the room, a figure trailing behind her, but by the time they came close, it was too late. He couldn't keep his eyes wide any longer, and instead could feel his throat move as he fell asleep, his last words sounding more like a distorted moan than of an 'I love you'

 

He didn't awaken but only once throughout the day or night, no matter how bad his dreams haunted him. Even when he did jolt awake, eyes transfixed surprisingly onto Abby's, it was only seconds before he was asleep again. It was determination more than anything. He was so ready to move on, so ready to break the chains that wrapped around him, the key tossed away and lost in the endless ocean. Now, he was almost regretting the decision. 

"Come on," Abby burst in the room, a small smile on her face as she nudged his shoulder, making him sit up, "I have a surprise for you" 

After a moment of staring, his confused expression making her even more giggly, she basically pulled him onto his foot, helping balance him as he grabbed her shoulder in shock, working to not fall over.   
"You wanted to walk, so let's take a walk. You have to earn your reward" 

Marcus tried his hardest not to imitate her smirk, "really? You're doing this now?" 

"Yep," was all Abby said before pulling him along. He stumbled the first few steps, catching his balance once they reached the door. He hadn't seen her so happy or excited since they made way for Polis. Not even the cold rush of air that numbed his face could pry his eyes from her. He ignored everything that happened around them. All the staring faces and the commotion of everyday life that he hadn't actually witnessed in weeks. All of it went right over his head and he didn't care. 

He was so distracted, he almost tripped over the step that had to be taken upon entering the ark station.   
"Careful," Abby warned him, keeping him steady as he found his balance. 

"So, where are we going again?" His throat dry as he continued to loose air. 

"Good question," Abby didn't look at him, just kept her eyes forward. She thought she could hear him swear under his breath. After countless twists and turns through the corridors, it wasn't hard for him to figure out they were going to Mecha. But why? 

"Raven," Abby yelled, her voice echoing off the walls as they entered the so called hanger. 

Coming out from behind of a few large pieces of scrap metal, Marcus could see her drained face, wondering if she'd managed any sleep from the past night.   
"Hey, Kane, glad you made it here," she mocked, continuing to screw a bolt into some sort of metal bar, "did you tell him?" 

"It's a surprise," Abby led him past the half awake teen towards the table in the back of the room, all sorts of metal scraps and tools leaving it messy and in need of cleaning. Letting go of his arm, she pulled out the chair from under the desk and motioned for him to sit.   
Marcus watched as she took an object wrapped in cloth from under a few sheets of tin, handing it to him. Instead of opening the package, Abby was surprised when he watched her with a confused expression, like he didn't know what a surprise or gift was.   
"It's hard to practice walking with just one leg," she added, waiting patiently.   
When he was yet to change an inch of his expression, she was becoming almost impatient, "Marcus, open the god damn package"

He formed a small small before his face fell into seriousness again, "it's not much of a surprise if I already know what it is"

"How do you know?" Abby thought he was joking. 

"Well, when you come into medical to take measurements, maybe you should make sure I'm fully asleep" 

"I knew it," Abby swatted at his shoulder, "you're no fun!"

"I'm sorry, Abs," he apologized, glancing down at the cloth, "I shouldn't have ruined it for you"

"There's still hope," she smirked, "I want to see you try it out, then we'll know for sure if you're capable"

Marcus dropped his eyes from hers and stared at the package again, a sad smile replacing his normally warm and welcoming one, "what if I'm not capable? What if I fuck it up like I always do?"

"Marcus, you're not going to mess this up. I've never met anyone more stubborn than you. Let's get this up and running, we have lots of practice to do"

She took the surprise from his lap, knowing if he was tasked to open in, they'd be talking back and forth forever. Her hands were shaky as she tried to balance it evenly. Untying the string that held it together, she let the cloth fall to the floor, revealing the prosthetic underneath.   
Marcus was amazed. Each piece of scrap metal being folded together in such perfect form. He could tell just by looking at it that it was sturdy, capable of holding more than just his own body weight. Turning to glance at Raven, she gave him a smirk before looking back down at her work.   
"This is amazing," Marcus gawked, reaching out to trace his fingers along the surface.   
"Your pants should fit right over it, and Raven put an insole into a matching boot like yours. No one will ever know. Plus," Abby smirked, flipping it around, making Marcus's fingers pull away, "I got a little bored, so your name is on it as well"

Feeling the cold metal again, he traced his fingers along the carving that was etched into his new leg. In big letters, he smiled at his name 'Marcus' resting on the surface, the Arks symbol that was molded onto a piece of scrap metal coming immediately after the 's.'   
"It's beautiful, Abby, Raven, thank you," he took his eyes off the prosthetic to glance at Abby, before studying the object again.   
She gave him a few more moments to examine the work, before setting it down on the table, and squatting to untie his knotted pant leg. Working the thick materials, she was finally able to roll it above his bandages, happy to see they hadn't leaked at all. 

"How does it work?" Marcus asked, intrigued with how it would all came together. 

"We were going to screw a base into your leg, but we didn't want to move too fast, so it'll be wrapped on, for now," Abby took the prosthetic from the table again. 

Marcus was more than great full they weren't screwing anything onto him. If needles were a fear to him, then he didn't even want to think of the new trauma something like screwing a base into his limb would create.   
"Thanks for not doing that," he caught a smirk from her face. 

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't be very happy about that idea"

Taking his leg, Abby pushed the prosthetic into his flesh, making him moan from the pressure added to his sore and bruised muscles. With the cloth from the floor, she pulled it as tightly as she possibly could around his skin and metal add-on, helping it to stay in place. She could hear his breath catch in his throat.   
"I know it's tight, but it needs to stay in place. You'll get used to it, promise" 

Marcus didn't say anything, only nodded at her reassurance. He tried searching for something else to focus on rather than the uncomfortable feeling in his leg. On the commotion he could witness out of the far window, or how Abby's hair swayed in the obvious draft flowing through the room, or the sound of water dripping onto metal, no doubt from a leak in the roof. It didn't help. He grit his teeth at the nagging pain that continued to radiate from his wound, and for the next twenty minutes, tried his hardest to not make a sound.   
Eventually, he decided to just roll his head back and close his eyes, catching some rest before having to get moving again. That didn't last long.

"All done," Abby shook his thigh as she grabbed it for support, still squatting on the floor, catching his attention as he lay on the verge of finally falling asleep. 

Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling, hesitant to examine her work. Sometimes, when it felt like his leg was still there, he like to pretend it really was. At night, when everything was quiet and he was left with nothing but his thoughts. He knew it was never a good idea, but it brought comfort. Now, he realized he hadn't really prepared for the time when he didn't need to pretend anymore. It was just something he never knew would really come.   
Tilting his head up, he took a long look at what used to be nothing, now everything. It was like nothing had happened at all. That he could simply toss away all those memories he had suffered. All the pain he was put through, what Abby was put through. He reached up and ran his fingers across the swollen stitches on his neck. Maybe it wasn't that easy to forget. 

If one were to look at him now, with no knowledge of his previous endeavors, they would have no idea that under his black pants and dirt covered boot that hid his past would reveal a metal mark, forever sealed onto his flesh. They would have no idea that under Abby's warm coat lay a scar on her stomach that would forever haunt her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to forget. That although they were calm and collected on the outside, on the inside they were screaming, pounding against their bones to be let free of the cages they found their souls trapped in ever since they lost the key. Looking down his body to where his disability would no longer stay a barrier to his life, he felt free. 

Abby wasn't sure how to take his expression. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes staring at his pants, she feared he'd gone into some sort of trance.   
"Hey?" She shook his leg again, "Marcus?"  
When he refused to give her his attention, Abby stood from the ground, grabbing his cheeks, forcing him to look into her eyes.   
"Marcus, where are you?" She asked quietly, fearful if she were to loud it'd spook him off. 

"I..." He didn't know where his sentence was going, "when I woke up this morning I never expected this. I never expected any of this. I don't know what to say, because I know that thank you isn't enough" 

"It's good enough for me," the wind howled outside, dark clouds bringing snow from the west.   
Looking past Abby, Marcus eyes the weather carefully.   
"Don't worry," she noticed his fearful gaze, "we can practice inside, come on"

Reaching out her hands, he was slow to respond. Looking to them for a few moments, he glanced up at her eyes. This was no time for second thoughts, but it was just his luck that that was exactly what was flowing through him mind. What if he fell and she decided he wasn't ready? Or his prosthetic broke and he was left without support? Looking back at her hands a vision of blood flashed before his eyes. This was the next step. 

He gripped her wrists, slowly standing from his chair. Putting as little weight on his bad leg as possible he held onto Abby for dear life, worried if he let go he would collapse onto the ground. 

"It's ok," her hand becoming sore from his tight grip.  
When he failed to respond, Abby nudged his side, immediately causing his head to whip towards hers.   
"Marcus, it's ok. You can let go now"  
What if he didn't want to let go. 

He carefully loosened one finger, and then another, and then another, until one hand was free from her grasp. 

"Let's go like this, for now. We'll move slow"

Taking a small step, he wobbled at first, a tight rope beneath his feet. Using her hand to steady himself, he was thankful she was still at his side. Setting a goal, he decided it would be first to reach the post three feet ahead of them.   
With one foot in front of the other, he felt himself limp with each stride.   
"That's it, Marcus, take a few more steps," Abby fueled him, hoping for him to do more. 

Taking another step, Marcus could feel his leg buckle from under him as he fell to his knees, immediately letting go of Abby as to not drag her down with him.   
"I'm sorry," Marcus leaned against the pole for support, "I'm sorry"

Abby didn't take his apology, instead she ran her arms below his shoulder and hoisted him up, swinging his arm around her neck, and gripping the far side of his waist with her hand. Laughing at his mixed expression of confusion and amazement, she took a few steps forward, forcing him to follow. He had a limp, of course, but the more he practiced the more it would disappear. Otherwise, he was doing better than she had expected. All he needed was support, and Abby was there to give it to him. Even when his foot failed to find its mark on the ground, she never failed to make sure he didn't end up back on the floor. 

Hours went by, snow continuing to fall from the sky outside, covering the dead grasses in a blanket once again. Abby was relieved once the white crystals had finally melted a few days ago, the powder always getting in the way. But, now that it was back, she couldn't help but sigh as she glanced out the window. Her and Marcus had swept through almost every corridor of the Ark. Down the halls, twisting through rooms, in and out of hangers. Occasionally, when he had managed to get the hang of it, she would let go. He could go a few steps before grasping the wall for support, but after he waited a few moments, he was perfectly capable of continuing on again until his leg grew tired. After that Abby would wrap around him again and they'd continue on. 

Some people would stop and stare but, they just ignored them, paying no attention to their ever so watchful eyes. Occasionally, Marcus found great humor in staring directly back at them, making them turn away in embarrassment. Abby didn't know why he was randomly laughing until she caught him staring back at a guard who nearly jumped from his socks when he saw Marcus's 'dirty' glare towards him. 

"Stop staring at people, you're scaring them," Abby smirked 

"I'm staring? They started it. Besides, I'm not that scary to make eye contact with. Am I?" He managed to form a small smirk as he continued to limp down the hall. 

"Only if you're angry," she didn't need to turn her head to see his reaction, nor did she want to. Instead she just smiled, knowing he secretly found the joke funny as well.   
"It's getting close to dinner time, why don't we eat in the hall?" 

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks, staring down at her like perhaps he hadn't heard her right the first time.   
"Really?"

Her laugh made his cheeks blush in embarrassment, "well we're already here, and who knows if I'll be able to get you back to medical through the snow. I told you we should have used all the extra supplies to help our hospital construction quicken" 

Abby began to walk again, pulling Marcus to follow, heading towards the diner hall.

"I was fine with medical construction, but everyone else voted watch towers. Besides, I wasn't planning on loosing a leg, or anything else for that matter"  
His eyes flocked down to her stomach before going back to the floor in front of him. 

"We're almost there, Marcus. We'll never forget, but at least we'll have something else to take our minds off of it for awhile" 

He tried his hardest to form a happy, 'I know, you're right' smile, but all he could manage to create was a half smirk that was more sad than anything. Although they were home, they both knew they still had a long journey ahead of them. That the danger wasn't over and the moment they stepped out of those gates, no matter how many times they each told themselves to not be afraid, fear would always find its way to seep into every little thought that travelled through their minds. But who were they kidding? It was nothing new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're moving along a little quicker now so prepare. Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby breaks down, and Marcus helps her forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has 'smut'*
> 
> *smut with minimal details 
> 
> ...I tried, I tried...

Overmorrow Chapter 10

Meal time was never anything special. The broth was always still full of dry chunks, and the wild onions they had harvested in the late summer were quickly becoming old and rotted. For more than forty years Marcus had never eaten anything but dried meat, half stale crackers, and cold 'flavor' water, he was sick of the taste it left in his throat. Sometimes he liked when he was forced to go into starving himself. Not to save supplies, but to spare his body the ungodly torture of food he'd have been putting up with for years on end. After Mount Weather, things got better of course. There was soup, real soup with beans and meat and proteins. There was real bread, baked to a softness on the inside that always made him hungry just by looking at it. Not to mention the frozen fruits and vegetables they had found in the freezer.  
He always laughed when Abby would bite into a new food, her face lighting up in an amazed and excited glow. She would always push him to try it, even if it tasted absolutely dreadful. He'd never said no, but it wasn't hard to guess when she was lying about how good it actually was. 

It'd been such a long time since they had eaten with one another at a real table, with real food, with the rest of camp swarming around them, that neither really knew what to do. Abby felt guilty when she forced him to eat that dreadful broth and sit in medical all day, so she was one to typically join him. But now, she barely remembered how to correctly file through the line. 

Leaving him to save the table in the corner, she was hesitant to go off on her own without him beside her. Making her way slowly through the procession, grabbing two of everything, sometimes she would smile behind her, thinking he was at her back, only to find a complete stranger eyeing her as if she were crazy.   
She prayed no one would stop to talk. Every time she saw someone she knew come even remotely towards her, she made sure to steer clear, and twist her way through large crowds unnoticed. It worked most of the time, except for when she would bump into someone and spill the contents of their meal, having to apologies a thousand times over for her clumsy behavior.   
Finally returning to their table that sat distant from all the rest, she was relieved no one had stopped to speak with Marcus either, and instead found him drawing shapes into the dust. 

"Taking a trip back into Elementary school, are we?" Abby set the food down carefully from the scrap metal trays that held them as she smiled from his across the table. 

"Better than you could ever do" he kicked her back after she drove her foot into his shin. 

Wiping all the dust clear, and the drawing of what was supposed to be a sunset, he was glad to have a real meal in front of him for once. 

"You did good today," a cold draft filtered through the room sending a chill down both their spines. The temperature had been continuing to drop all day with the strong wind that ran its course outside. 

"Thanks, I just hope I can keep it up tomorrow," smiling at her from across the table, both of them had come to realized they missed this time together. To just sit and relax, not being surrounded by bloody bandages, and interrupted by the crackling fire, or fearing that at any given moment a man would barge in with blood spilling from his skin because of some grounder attack. No. It was just them, and the everyday life that never seized to stop. Always moving no matter how bumpy the road got.

If it weren't for the constant conversation they shared with one another, they would've choked down on their food in minutes. Most of the time it was about Indra and the army that awaited them just across the field. Useful tactics, men strong enough to make the trip, supplies needed when ones became wounded, what would happen once they reached the dead zone.   
"I can stay with you tomorrow and help with your walking, but after that, I need to make arrangements for this whole mess, and I most likely will need your help, 'head of guard,'" she made sure to emphasize on the last part. 

"That's ok. We have more important things to deal with other than my walking problem"

She wanted to say he was being ridiculous, but was cut short of her words upon seeing his deep yawn. She didn't realize how late it was until she turned back to look out the window, realizing the sun was already below the horizon, and heavy snow drifts were beginning to pile along the window seal. Her back began to ache as she watched the weather carefully. 

"I used to like the snow, now it's just..." He paused, Abby jumping at the deep voice from behind her, "it's different now that I see its true color as red"  
He wished he could take back his words at Abby's fearful stare.   
"I'm sorry, I'm just tired. I guess that's what comes to mind when I'm looking for sleep"

Abby stood up and grabbed his tray, setting it on top of hers, careful not to cut herself on some of the jagged edges.   
"I'm not gonna be able to get you through the snow, but I trust you'll probably do fine in your own bed" 

Marcus immediately lifted his eyes from the table and stared at her in pure disbelief. He wasn't going back to medical? No more endless days being wasted away as he sat alone staring up at the ceiling? Was she not kidding when she said today was the day? He'd experienced many unexpected turns in his life but this was a whole new twist on things coming from Abby Griffin. 

"Uhm... Marcus?" Abby tapped on the table working to catch his attention.  
He realized then he most likely looked like a fool with his confused expression plastered all over his face. 

"Sorry, I just...," he tried to find a decent explanation for his behavior, "I'm just kind of relieved, I was starting to go crazy in there," standing up along side of her, he carefully took back his tray, "it's ok, I got it"

She refused to let go before searching his eyes for answers. Their silent conversations were no longer a contained war zone, their eyes shooting bullets into the others brain. But instead they were soft, and understanding. Both of them could sense what the other was most likely thinking without the need for words.   
"Ok," Abby didn't take her stare from his as she let go of the tray.  
It wasn't that she didn't think he couldn't walk with it on his own. She just wasn't used to him walking again in general, or standing by her side when her brain still told her he was to be in medical. It was just something they would both need to get used to again. 

Abby took his hand and helped him as he limped his way through the crowds. Occasionally he would bump someone on the shoulder, or limp a little more noticeably than normal, but it was all in the process. Nobody seemed to mind his clumsy behavior, understanding that he couldn't help it. Even when he stepped on somebody's toes, his sincere apology spilling its way from his tongue, they just laughed and said it was ok. He had to admit, he wasn't expecting behavior from the people towards one who was getting in their way quite so kind. 

Finally coming out into the hallway, he took a deep breath, the air in the hangar becoming stuffier and stuffier as more Arkers filed inside. Normally people would take their meals elsewhere, but the snow had kept that from happening. He could see why. He wasn't expecting the winters on the ground to be so harsh, especially in their area but, a lot could happen in between a nuclear apocalypse and 97 years. 

"When we get to your quarters I should probably take the prosthetic off, I don't want you cutting off your circulation somehow in the night"

Marcus half grunted half laughed when he took his first few steps, "you might be a little late, I already lost some of my leg" 

"We can't risk taking away blood from the wound. You may be walking, but it's still healing," it was hot in the corridors, her small hand beginning to sweat as it gripped his tightly, "you're even due for more stitches next week"

"I can hardly wait," he didn't bother in hiding the sigh he allowed to escape his throat. He was sick of being pinched and poked with something that Abby explained to him in being, 'needle or nothing.' He'd rather take nothing. However, as long as he didn't look, he couldn't feel a thing, which helped with the process. 

He hadn't been back to his room in at least a month, dust coated the desk in the corner and the mirror above it. His blankets that he had managed to fold before they left were still resting atop his pillow. His journal of maps, chalk, pencils, and personal belongings were still in the same spots that he had left them on the floor? Even when he slept in Abby's chambers for a whole week, or visa versa, he never let it get this messy. Did he? 

"Sorry it's such a mess," Abby let go of his hand and stepped through the doorway in front of him, rushing to his desk in the corner where she began to pick up his things.   
He tried stepping in to help, but found himself at a loss of balance and leaning into the frame instead.   
"I came in to get you some clean clothes," she began, "I accidentally dropped the things off your desk and..." She paused, embarrassed to go on any further, "I was a mess, but I'll get it picked up now"

She became more nervous at his silence, great full her back was to him, and he couldn't see her cheeks begin to beat red. She failed to hear his boots shuffle against the metal as she worked frantically to declutter the floor. 

"Hey, Abby," Marcus bent down to squeeze her shoulder softly, "Abby, it's ok. It's ok, Abby"  
No matter how many times he said it she continued to pile the mess in her hands, some of his chalk falling through her fingers and pages from his journal coming loose from the spine.   
He finally fell to his knees in front of her, both hands coming up not to hold the side of her arms.   
"Abby, stop this," he didn't mean to sound so harsh. Her hands instantly stopped, everything cluttering onto the floor once more as they slid through her fingertips. Her head lifted from the ground as her eyes bore into his. The fear and sadness that clouded them broke his heart. He couldn't stand to see them any longer. Instead he pulled her close, her head resting against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, his hands coming up to stroke her hair. He jumped when she wrapped her arms around his rib cage, refusing to explain how ticklish he really was. 

"Abby, listen to me, ok? It's ok. Everything is ok. Hear my heart beat like I can hear yours. We're ok," he closed his eyes, Abby's shoulders beginning to tremble as she took in a deep breath. She tried holding back the tears, but there was no point. It was Marcus, she knew with him she was free. 

"I thought I would loose you. You were so close I... I would have lost everything" 

"But I'm still here. I never left"

"No, Marcus, you did," he instantly felt lost at her words. 

"W-what?" He asked, continuing to hold her close as his large fingers twirled in her hair, confusion mixing with his expression. 

"When we brought you back to camp your heart stopped I-I thought you were gone," she pulled him closer, burying her head into her shoulder as she continued to sob into his chest, focusing on the beating of his heart. 'He's still here. He's still here. He's still here,' she told herself, 'he's still here. He's still here. He's still here.' 

"Abby," he moved his hands to rub small circles along her back, working to catch her attention, "sh, Abby," he tried to quiet her, but no matter how many times he whispered her name she refused to hear his words. Finally, it wasn't a comforting hush, but a demand, "Abby," he carefully pulled her from his shirt, her hands leaving wrinkles in the fabric along his back. Cupping her cheeks he forced her to look into his eyes, and he savored the feel of her fingers as she grabbed his. "Abby. I came back," he smiled, working his hardest to make her feel at peace with his words, until his expression faded once more to a saddening stare, "do not do this to yourself. I wouldn't be here without you, nobody would," he watched as her tears fell slowly down her soft skin, pooling as they reached his fingers that caressed her face, "no matter what happens, I will always come back to you. Always"

The intense stare they shared in silence was cut short by her need to wipe the tears from her eyes as they began to sting. As she looked to the floor, Marcus was scared of what would happen when she looked up, who she would find holding her close as he shushed in her ear, telling her it would be ok. Was it him, or a ghost. The fact that this information was just now reaching him angered him in a way, yet he was relieved. 

"Abby," he forced her head to rise so he could look into her eyes, he wanted the truth, "did I die that day in the forest?" 

She was silent again, afraid of what words would spill from her lips if she were to open them. So instead, she kept them closed, nodding her head in a reply meant to be a yes. She could feel in her hand the stillness she once felt when she lay it on his heart, how it had seized to beat and his chest failed to continue to rise and fall. How she leaped for his neck, placing her fingers along his pulse, searching frantically for any hint of life in his frame. She remembered the way she collapsed against his chest, clinging to his hair with her hands, her mind running in circles. The blood dripping from his mouth, clear signs of death. Even his flesh began to loose it's warmth from under her. 

"I'm right here, I'm right here," Marcus repeated as she began to sob again. He could feel her body tremble as he rubbed her back, not knowing exactly how to bring comfort, for it was never his job.   
"Hey," he stood up, taking her hands in his and pulling her slowly to her feet. She was reluctant at first, wanting to wash the night away on the floor, drowning in her tears.   
"Come on, you need to sit down"

"No," she cried pulling away from him and turning the tables. This time, she was the one to grip his arms, feeling how his warm skin heated her cold hands, "I shouldn't be like this, I'm sorry," she sniveled, leaving him shocked and speechless, "you sit down, we need to get that piece off of you," her smile became pointless when small tears still remained glistening upon her cheeks. 

She was upset, and it was the least Marcus could do but to sit down and follow her instructions. The silence was almost unbearable, and the small clicks and clanks of her fiddling with his shoe and pant just made it worse. After awhile, he was tempted to begin banging on the cot just so he could hear something other than his thoughts that did nothing but petrify him even further. He found himself staring at the books and pencils that remained on the floor. He smiled to himself, deciding he could easily get them later. It was the least he could do, perhaps other than apologize. 

"Look, Abby," he began awkwardly, brushing the hair from his eyes as he watched her carefully fold his pant leg up towards his knee  
He was about to continue when she beat him to it. 

"No, wait," she stopped working, looking up to him as she knelt on the floor, "I shouldn't have told you. I should have just fought it and picked up your things. I didn't mean for it to escalate"

He paused, looking into her eyes as if she were lying, and he had to work for the truth.   
"I know you don't want to talk about it but, it's ok. I'm still here"

'He's still here,' she thought, her eyes glued wide to his dark pupils. She wondered if he had ever looked at them in the mirror for a while. If he'd ever studied them, compared them to something as dark as the emptiness of space or the hairs on his head. She tried ignoring her ridiculous thoughts, knowing she only brought them up because she didn't wish to face the problem at hand. Breaking their stare, she tried to continue on his leg, carefully unwrapping each bandage that held the prosthetic in place.   
She tried ignoring the worried stare he gave her, but found it impossible. 

"I'm ok," she stopped once again, "I'm just stressed, and the fact I had almost lost you was eating away at me even further, and today I realized I shouldn't be worrying at all, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you and this whole thing is just," she paused, refusing the tears from falling down her cheeks, "it's just bullshit," she slammed her hand against his prosthetic, making him jump in not only pain but surprise.   
"I'm sorry," she glanced up before returning her gaze to the wrinkles in his pant leg, too ashamed to look at him in the eyes any longer than she had to. 

Marcus squeezed his hands tighter around the cold frame of his bed, his finger nails scratching deep into the tin surface.   
"Don't let this consume you, Abs. You just have to try and forget. Maybe even for just a little while. If you can drown it out for just a few moments, it makes a difference," his breathing became uneven. 

"Is that what you did?" she asked, immediately wishing she had stayed silent, "after everything. After the culling and the Unity Day attack?"

His smile was one she'd never forget. She'd never forget the sadness it held. Never forget the redness in his eyes and the watery streaks down his cheeks. She'd been so angry she'd failed to look up for more than a few seconds, thinking his reaction the same as all the others she had tried talking to. Unmoved.   
She saw him swallow hard, his mouth lightly parting as if he were to say something else.   
"Yeah, that's what I did," she knew he was working his hardest to keep his voice steady, "Abby, I can help you forget. I'll do anything, I want to help, I promise" 

Abby didn't wait another moment, unable to hold back any longer. Standing from the floor, she reached for his hair, letting it seep through her fingers. She relished in the taste of his lips, almost forgetting how they felt against hers.   
She could feel him pull away slightly, no doubt shocked at her sudden action. But after a second he fell into her, allowing her to consume him, to let her fill every inch of his mouth, savoring the taste she left behind. 

She felt like she could shatter. For her flesh and bones to scatter across the floor, falling to dirt. For her blood to seep into the ground like rain during a storm. For her hair to become the grass, swaying in the wind. She felt like she was to fall away into nothing.   
But that wasn't the case. Instead, her flesh felt like fire, burning through the forest in a rage, destroying everything that stood in her path. Her blood was ash, falling to the ground so that not even a glimpse of sunlight could touch the dying earth. Her hair were the ropes that bound every man to burn alive, strapped down for no escape. She wanted him to feed her fire. 

She pulled away and reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle as she worked on releasing the hold.

"Abby, wait," he jumped at the feeling, moving his hand to grip her wrist.   
"What are you doing," although his eyes were still red, his voice nothing but seriousness.

"I want to forget," was all she said before pulling her hand from his grip, continuing to unbuckle his pants. 

Finding that using his hands were having no effect, he ran his fingers along her spine, pulling her closer to kiss her again, and force her hands to stop in their actions.   
"I'll get my clothes," he pulled away before jumping back to kiss her again, unable to stay away for more than a few seconds, "you worry about your own"

She pulled away and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, revealing her skin underneath, and the scar that marked her stomach.   
Marcus watched as she undressed, trying his hardest to ignore the wound that took everything.   
"I try to pretend it's not there," she stopped, noticing he'd yet to move. 

"You want to forget, and it's my fault. Everything is my fault. I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be the one t-"

"No," she grabbed the button of her jeans, "do not do this to yourself. I'm not the only one who needs to forget"  
She didn't hold her stare with his for long before lowering her pants, Marcus getting to work on his own. After several attempts of pushing them below his prosthetic, his other leg already free, he gave up, and pulled off his shirt, letting the cold air to form goosebumps along his chest. 

"Having troubles?" He looked up, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her body standing only inches from his. He allowed his attention to catch briefly on her nipples before continuing to her lips, and finally reaching her eyes.   
Reaching down, she continued unraveling the wrap around his leg until the prosthetic was loose. Tugging lightly, it didn't take much for it to release, Abby placing it lightly on the floor.   
She let her eyes trail along the bandages, relieved there was no blood that had bled through the thick cotton. She knew what went on in his mind. She knew he believed no one could love him. Could love a monster. The monster who murdered 300 people, not to include the ones he released into space. The monster who locked up hundreds of teenagers who were just trying to survive. The monster who put his men's lives in danger. The freak with one leg. Little did he know, she loved him no matter what. Even if a part of him was still missing. 

He watched as she pulled the rest of his pants around his wound, never taking her eyes from what wasn't there. He was expecting her to back away, to change her mind and dump him like anyone would do. Which was why as she brought her lips to his leg, he felt his heart skip a beat.   
She began at his bandages, working her way up his leg until she reached the most sensitive area of his thigh, making him moan, running his hand along the back of her head so that her hair ran through his fingers. 

"Lay back," she stood from her spot on the floor, placing her hand gently on his chest and pushing him to lay flat against the cot until she was able to straddle his waist.   
Leaning down she kissed him again, running her hands up his torso and neck until they finally reached his hair. 

Marcus didn't know why but, he enjoyed running his fingers along the scars of her back. It helped remind him of how undeserving he really was. It reminded him of what he did to her, to scar her for the rest of her life, yet still fall into bed with the woman who's future he destroyed. The sudden awakening made him jolt from his spot from under her, pulling his hands away from her back and to grip the side of the bed. She didn't notice his panic, continuing to suck and kiss into the crook of his neck. She was light, passionate, tasting every inch of his skin and savoring the flavor it left on her tongue. Little did she know it was torture.   
They'd been here several times. Panting, clawing for breath as their bodies moved together. Every time he ran his hands along her back it was like fire burning his finger tips. He would wince but, it didn't matter, he refused to let her know how it felt. 

She pulled away from him, leaning her forehead against his as if she were any further away, he wouldn't be able to hear her.   
"I know what you're doing," her voice was soft, "why does it hurt?"

He didn't know how to respond, not that he wanted to. Instead he just gripped the bed even tighter, a feeling only described as fear coursing through him.   
After minutes of nothing but silence, moving her hands to feel the salt and peppered hair that grew along his cheeks was the only thing she could think to do. It was soft against her hands, around her mouth when they kissed. 

"I'm here to forget, and it's time for you to do the same," she grabbed his wrist, her eyes never leaving his, as she guided his hand, placing it on the lower arch of her back.   
He didn't wince this time. Didn't even grit his teeth. He just watched, and waited, hoping for the sting to go away. 

"I'm ok, Marcus. What you did, you did for all of us," he didn't know if her words were like needles or soft summer rain on his skin, "Marcus? Ok? You did this for all of us"

"Exactly, I did this," he rubbed his thumb across the lines that marked her back, "I let you scream and I did nothing to stop it and I-"

"Marcus, how can you tell me to forget, if you can't forget yourself?" 

"Because it doesn't work like that," it took him everything to keep his voice down and at a whisper, "I've tried to forget okay? Everyday I try and it does nothing. Every time we are here I can't look at them. I can't feel them. I can't even think about them or it burns me. I'm weak," he had refused to let any tear escape him, but the words that poured from his mouth felt they could snap him in half. He didn't care when he felt a drop fall down the side of his eye, or when they began to sting, he couldn't take it anymore. Two then three then four, one after the other the tears formed in his eyes and fell down the side of his face until they pooled onto the bed. The burning sensation in his leg grew stronger and stronger. Of course now, of all times, it began acting up. He grit his teeth together, confused on wether it was the physical or mental pain he hated more.   
What was supposed to be an apology turned to a whimper when his breathing grew heavy and uneven.   
He couldn't take it anymore. Laying there with her atop of him, exposed, nothing but bandages to hide the tanned skin. His tears turning to rain, washing all of their sins away. 

Abby leaned in closer. Starting at his lips, she kissed her way to his ear, where she shushed him softly, a hand moving to run through his hair.   
"Marcus, it's ok," her voice a whisper, "Marcus, I forgive you" 

That was when he burst. When the glass that held everything in began to crack and shatter. He wrapped his arms around her frame, letting his fingers trail over the scars on her back. He let his stomach press against hers, feeling the wound that marked her skin. She let her devour him again. Their mouths crashing together as he savored the taste of her lips on his. It'd been so long since there was nothing between them. So long since Abby could hear the beat of his heart and know he was going to be ok. So long since she'd felt him touch her in the places he caused her the most pain. Now there was no barrier, no glass, it was just them.

She didn't know how long they lay there. Her running her fingers through his hair as he let his fingers trail along her back, but eventually she couldn't take it any longer. She gave no warning as she lowered herself onto him, his gasp pulling them apart as their lips separated.  
It wasn't until she began to rock did he feel his leg begin to sting again. It was tolerable at first, just a light pain that he cast away, trying to focus on the way she clung to him. The way she had pushed his hands back until they were pressed flat against the cold bed, not quite above his head. The way her fingers interwound with his, growing tighter and tighter as they both grew closer to release. He thought he could ignore the pain by masking it with his pleasure, with her pleasure, but it did nothing.   
"Abby," he gasped, his head rolling back as he grit his teeth, "Abby, hold on I... It- it hurts," he felt as if his leg would burst. 

She stopped, forgetting all about his injury, "Marcus I'm sorry, I forgot," she moved to get up, stopping when he gripped her waist. 

"No, this isn't going to ruin everything. I just... I need to catch my bearings"

"It's ok," she began to move slowly, pressing her forehead against his,"did it just start?"

"I don't know, I think I was just too caught up in the moment to notice. Abby, you need this. I don't want you t-" 

She kissed him again, a moan escaping his throat as he was silenced.  
"Just focus on me" 

She was slow and steady at first, working to help him match her movements.   
"Is this ok?" 

He nodded, unsure wether his moans were from the feeling in his leg or the feeling of his body moving with hers.   
It didn't take long for either of them to begin to pant, sweat beginning to form on their skin. Every once in awhile he would glance down to his leg, contemplating wether to stop again. The problem was, he didn't know if he could. He had missed everything about her. About the smell of her hair as he held her in his arms. About the feel of her skin as she lay above him. About the way her hair fell softly down her shoulder, running against his chest. 

He heard his name being called from her throat. Over and over again she let it slip from her lips as she let her head rest on his, their mouths only inches apart. It didn't take long for her pleads to push him over the edge, his hands wrapping tighter around hers as he let everything slip away. He let go of the pain like it never existed. He let go of the sting in his leg. Of the cut on his wrist. Of the memories of his past that he knew would resurface. But for now, he let it all slip away through his fingers like sand. 

Abby gasped for air, her hands wrapped around his wrists so tightly she feared they'd leave bruises.   
"Marcus," she continued to whisper, even after she fell back to the beginning. 

"How's your leg?" She peered down to inspect the possible damage. 

"It hurts, but I'm ok, don't worry about it just," he paused, his eyes squeezing tightly closed as the pain grew to a point, "just forget it"

She began to pull away, Marcus instantly wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer.   
"Wait. Don't go, please," she stayed only because he basically begged, her head resting on his chest, listening as his heart began beating slower and slower. 

"I love you," she whispered after the silence became to much, her ears screaming for noise.   
He didn't answer, worry spreading through her. She looked up, smiling at the sight of his peaceful expression as he found comfort in sleep.   
"I forgot," she smirked, burrowing herself deeper into his figure as she focused on the way his chest rose and fell. It was the first time in months she didn't fear sleep, or what it brought to her in the dark.


End file.
